Too late, or too wild:
Which was I for you?
Though you amused yourself with me
it was she for whom you longed.
Though it is mid-summer,
the coldest winter wind is flowing
over my salt sea. It swells up,
spilling over the white sand.
Oh! Would that /I/ had been your lady,
and those same waves instead
lapped with cheer at your feet,
as they wandered along my shore
leaving your mark in your wake.
Jun 22, 2017
Jun 22, 2017 at 8:24 PM UTC
Too late, or too wild:
Which was I for you?
Though you amused yourself with me
it was she for whom you longed.
Though it is mid-summer,
the coldest winter wind is flowing
over my salt sea. It swells up,
spilling over the white sand.
Oh! Would that /I/ had been your lady,
and those same waves instead
lapped with cheer at your feet,
as they wandered along my shore
leaving your mark in your wake.
Originally written in June of 2015