I didn’t beware the ides of March, and really I should have.

        There were warnings lining the street, certain they weren’t for me

I’m older now, and no one hugged me for it, but my chocolate still tastes sweet

 

You don’t look so young yourself

Knowing things you know and admitting you know them is what keeps the sparkle shine in the eyes

     the blood flowing and the creative juices cajoling to the beat

 

Times are a’changing

      The call has gone out for those who can to rise up

                                                                    together

                                                                 aim higher

 

Of everything about you that has proved me disappointed this peaks above all else

You didn’t answer the call

    Although I know for certain you heard it, you just put on ear muffs; odd, not to admire

but your choice

 

Where i saw magic;                                                   you saw pedestrian commonplace sleight of hand

   Where i saw a miracle;                                          you saw shysters selling secrets

                                                                                   though nothing was secret to me, i knew all along

      Where i saw mystery;                                      you saw an open book, dusty and yellowing

        What i knew as sacred;                               you thought to bypass, dismiss, postpone

          Where i saw once-in-a-lifetime                you saw as everyday, and so, made a choice

                                                                                                picked a different every day for your song

 

Never realizing

    the tragic proportions of that mistake, that choice, that impulse, the inevitable regret looming

shake your head, tsk and poo poo me; time will tell, truth will out. You will see, you will know, as do I

                                 there is a love so rare, only comes by once in an eternity

of course mourning levels rise to match the momentous occasion for those awakened,                                                                                        such sadness

                           How Cassandra herself hated to know what might have been and why

 

You asked me to wait for you and then you left, knowing I was waiting, quietly with great dignity

            Now 

                              You pretend that did not happen

                                                                                                                                                    Yet

                                                                                                                                                         It did

 

                 my dignity has not abandoned me anyway

 

Hard because the manner in which you asked was like an ancient church cathedral; so rich and stunning in breathtaking beauty, amplifying otherworldly sounds high in the rafters, evoking incandescence, that it remains quite difficult to banish that ecstatic, aesthetic joy

 

Even your goodbyes, which you’ve said to me so often, steal my breath away in beauteous transcendence

                         Still I think on thee

 

                                        Less now, infrequent, true,

                                            fading, too happy for regret, movements too busy to mourn, yet

                                                                               I like the woman who loves you still, despite, I do

I no longer think warm kindly admiring thoughts towards you, of you, as once I did

    Sometimes my hand still reaches for your hand without my permission

                          but nothing reaches back

              You divorced me for polishing a mirror, so i can see clearly, not as clouds do 

 

I lost a love I never had; dreamed a deepness which existed only in my mind;                                                  cannot die if it never was

 

I am saved by an ancient god with a bow and lores

                                      who shot an arrow into your home

                                                                                                         which is not as truly warm as mine

Aim is true

                  Perception slips just enough

           I thought wrong but now I think right again

                                                                     I can see my way

                                                                        It is not yours