In my younger
and more vulnerable years
I
                  walked
                   on
I was lonely
        no longer
I was a guide
            a pathfinder
I had that familiar
                  conviction
                         that life
was beginning over
promising to unfold
that shining secret
that only
Midas
               and Morgan
                              and Maecenas knew,
that the wingless
had been overlooked
in a fashion
that rather
             took
                         your
                                  breath
                                            away.
I was fragilely bound into
a murmured apology
of moths
among
            the whispers
                                  and the champagne
                               and the stars
Bantering inconsequence
that was made of
infinitesimal
               hesitation
I repeated blankly
a surprising
shill metallic urgency
Bloomed with light
it sort of crept in on us
that I
               had truly
heard nothing at all
In the unquiet darkness
continually smoldering
with disappointment
in the solemn echoing
green light.
a dim hazy cast
lay upon my love
your love
     belongs
             to me
                 She insisted
its too late now
           he scowled
I could only stare
as
she cried
            A terrible
                        terrible
                                   Mistake!
you ask too much
she told me
I love you now.
you cant repeat the past
he said
why,
     of
            course
                        you can!
I paid a
high price
for living too long
with a
                   single
                              dream.

The daisy told her: "He loves You!"
The wind whispered softly: "He cares!"
She looks at the stars and wonders
Which road she took that got her here.

The path taken was not kindled by sun,
The moon certainly did not lead the way,
And all she can see is the tenebrity
That is left from the once exuberant day.

He promised to bring her the moon,
He even told he will take her up there.
He consoled her when feeling blue,
He assured her he will always be here.

The daisy tells her: "He loved You!"
The wind whispers softly: "He cared!"
"Was it all for real?"
She wonders.
Or was it only in her Head.

With meadow eyes come daisies and trouble.
Flowerbeds picked on and whimsiness doubled.