July 27, 2011

DENIM

On a rusty gate I waited for our eyes perchance to meet
but she fancied that she was alone amid the gilded wheat.
So I simply stood adoring as she donned a daisy crown
and I looked upon her walking in her regal, denim gown.

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I hold it true, whate'er befall;
I feel it, when I sorrow most;
'Tis better to have loved and lost
Than never to have loved at all.
- Lord Alfred Tennyson, In Memoriam