Sometimes Love Doesn't (Quite) Make It

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/R._N._Taber

Gay or straight, man or woman, I dare say there are a good few people out there whose hearts have been stirred if not broken by a romantic interlude on holiday…or just about any time, anywhere.

Oh, but romance can be so fickle. Love, now that’s something else, and where there’s life…

SOMETIMES LOVE DOESN’T (QUITE) MAKE IT

I’ve strolled in green hills

felt summer’s fingers in my hair,

raindrops like kisses,

envying leafy songbirds

free to fly where they choose

as nature intended,

lying on a bed of heather

its scent invading all my senses

just as you (still) do

We’d stroll in green hills

where you’d run fingers in my hair,

(pausing for kisses)

and write love songs

for the birds, fly where we chose

as nature intended,

lying on a bed of heather

its scent invading all our senses,

all but conquering us

I’ve walked grubby streets

felt summer’s fingers tease my hair,

raindrops like tears,

envying couples holding hands

their sweeter life choices

(or nature at play?)

wishing them kinder places

than sure to invade all the senses,

keep the spoils

Once, we were songbirds flying high,

till a north wind exposed us for a lie

Copyright R. N. Taber 2010