July 27, 2011

DENIM

I can still recall her blue dress sweeping through a field of hay
and there’s nothing that can drive the charming thought of her away.
As I watched, the cool, gentle breeze whisked up her flowing hair
and I stood entranced and gazed with wonder as she walked on air.

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.

And the wisps of golden sunshine whipping ‘round her pretty face
made me certain – made me sure – that I was in the perfect place.
There is nothing I had seen before and nothing I’ve seen since
half as lovely as that girl on the far side of the fence.

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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