YOU
When I, in solitude, sit and think,
And from your precious memory drink,
I wish my lonely loving cup
Was with your own sweet self filled up.
But many a prize with yearning sought
Is often better given than bought,
And wilful passion stays its hand
When pride takes such a stubborn stand.
So I think on with you in mind
And from your golden image find
Some solace for an aching heart
So cruelly made to play this part.
Lynn Dye
Mon 13th Feb 2012 20:13
Enjoyed this very much, agree with Dave's comments.