A little over a month ago, John sent this fascinating poem. - poetheart 12/27/02
Love with you would be a challenge-
Always "tete a tete".
Jab and cover, thrust and parry,
Every time we meet.
Word games, yes, and mental snares-
To trap unwary foes.
Destruction in our every coupling
Adding to our woes.
Till at last, the love we cherished,
would turn into hate.
And the things we'd sought had perished,
We'd realize too late!
Once again, our lonely vigil-
Like some brooding mage...
Would continue through life's twilight,
As we sit and age.
So the wanderer, salutes thee-
Maiden, in thy web...
I must not tarry til the morning,
Lest my life span ebb
Every second one is granted-
Upon the dial of life...
Must be cherished, and enjoyed,
Not be spent in strife.
Wilt thou take my hand in parting?
Spare me once a dance?
Let us drink to love now vanished,
Love that never stood a chance.
by John R. Yaws