Love and Time
I regret not my love, it was great while it lasted.My memories are fond, as is my own heart.
She was the greatest in life, a rose in my garden.
Happy I was, as long as this lasted.
Small things so sweet, like a kiss or a hug.
Talking and sharing, those were the best.
To hold her warm body, to feel her caress.
To sleep by her side and awake to her smile.
The greatest was this: to look in her eyes.
Seeing the love in her eyes, to feel the warmth of her gaze.
Her smile was so lovely, it still makes me glad.
I loved her so deeply, I was head over heels.
Love's eye is a diamond, so perfect and clear.
Hiding one's flaws and masking the others.
One looks to the future, one's sight undaunted.
It cares not for difference, if things might work out.
We might have been different, but love does not care.
It speaks of the future, the road that might be.
With love in ones heart, nothing else matters.
Time is the evil, it demands life and change.
For time it does show, things not previously seen.
It might not be much, it might not be flaws.
It pulls at one's senses, it prods and it bites.
With all it's might it drags and it pulls.
For time showed me small things, the things that are there.
Differences and opinions, they were not in agreement.
We seemed to be drifting, our worlds they were changing.
We looked at each other, we were not the same.
Both were the same, but not as before.
Time had been teaching, we would not be the same.
It pains so inside me, but it is as it should.
Our ways they were splitting, our differences clear.
I still love her dearly, as love is undying.
My heart and my mind agree on this part.
We would not fit together, it would be too hard.
But my friend she will be, for now and forever.
For love without friendship is nothing at all.
Our feelings have changed, though much is the same.
We talk to each other, we laugh and we smile.
Our meetings are different, but still quite alike.
She knows me so well, this friend of mine.
I know of her secrets and she knows of mine.
Why should we not talk? Why should we not share?
Of life's many gifts, a good friend is the best.
Poetry by QuiZZer
Read 1195 times
Written on 2005-12-07 at 01:26
Tags Life  Love 
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