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Wanda L. Harrell

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Bittersweet, A Love Letter
by Wanda L. Harrell

Friday, May 01, 2009
Not rated by the Author.
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Recent poems by Wanda L. Harrell
•  I Shall
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           >> View all 210

2009, Wanda L. Harrell


With a small photo album in hand and the anniversary of our first meeting approaching, I took a sentimental journey a few days ago, back in time to a now distant place we call Memory Lane. Vivid and vibrant in color, each photo caused my mind to waltz about, ever so slowly, with the sweet memories from that now faraway place. Smiling, I studied the image of your face for the longest time, but then salty tears began flowing down my cheeks as I came to the harsh understanding these were only memories, tangible two dimensional reminiscences of the man I love and loved with all that is this woman.

On the enormous tree of life, the odds were against our branches touching in that minuscule splinter of time on that eighth day of March in 2001. The odds were also tremendously against us when we met in late April of that same year and again two years later to the day.

As doggedly determined time and life slip by, I oft find myself extremely reflective regarding my life. Dearest, I am appreciative for a great number of my personal life experiences and opportunities, but I am especially appreciative for your presence and the emotional riches you have given me. Like a refreshing gentle breeze gently wafting amidst our tree branches, your presence has inspired some of my best writes. Thank you!

Smiling and shedding tears of joy for what was and is, all the while crying tears of sadness for what will never transpire, I unceasingly summon up the myriad miraculous moments that shaped the heart that now beats within me. Know, without any question or reservation, my darling, I shall go to my grave with the wonder of you and the treasures you have given me coursing through my mind, body and heart.

Bittersweet was my realization, that in this lifetime, I shall never again see my own reflection in the dark chocolate pools of your eyes, nor will my eyes soak in the beauty of you as you quietly read or study. Never again shall those sweet lips that encircle your smile touch mine in a tender or passionate kiss, nor will your exquisitely tall being lean down for your mouth to whisper a velvety lover’s secret in my ear. Never again shall we share a bottle of Champagne, nor will I taste the sweetness of your unique wine. Never again shall I feel the sweet solace of sanctuary, the never ceasing succor I felt in your presence, nor will your arms lovingly enfold me, holding me closely and carefully within the tender warmth of their exquisite embrace. Never again shall I find scarlet rose petals lovingly strewn across our bed, nor will I see you confidently stride through the door carrying a golden bouquet of just plucked daffodils. Never again shall we walk hand-in-hand to a sidewalk café for cups of frothy, hot cappuccino, nor will our combined laughter erupt into volcanic proportions over a small action. Never again shall we watch as a robin wings to-and-fro, dutifully building a home in a tree outside our window, nor will you again break a tiny twig from that tree for me to carry home. Never again shall I hear your superb voice sing for this audience of one, nor will I hear you simply, but adamantly proclaim I am yours. Never again shall your magnificent hands securely hold mine within them, nor will those same hands massage my aching feet or back with the buttery balm of your love.

Darling, if given a second chance at this amazing, living tapestry we call life, I have not a solitary doubt I would immediately choose to share precious life’s journey, over its mountain pinnacles and through its shadowed valleys, exclusively and solely with you, my dearest love. In that second lifetime, you and I could share the trials and triumphs, the sweetness and bitterness, the marvels and puzzles, all of the richly colored threads of which the intricate tapestry of life is woven.

Alas, as far as I know, there is no second chance, but if there were such a thing….






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