For Lori Lynn

Once in my youth I saw her face
That’s how my story begins—
I met a young maiden of stunning grace,
She called herself Lori Lynn.

Sprinkles of stardust danced in her eyes,
As my mind would meander and spin,
And her hair would shimmer in the moonlit sky,
Caressing her delicate skin.

She made me act like a little child,
And my feelings I couldn’t contain,
So I wrote this poem to make her smile
Because I was slightly insane.

But, all of a sudden, a strange little bird
Snatched my poem, as I finished my gin,
Then it flew away and I never heard
From my beautiful Lori Lynn.

Many years passed, I grew tired and old,
And I couldn’t write poems again,
As my world grew dull and my heart turned cold,
And I felt like a dying man.

But then one night, when I was alone
With my usual bottle of gin,
I dreamt that same bird, and it read me a poem
By my beautiful Lori Lynn.

Then I woke up and somehow I knew
That the answer was always within,
So I wrote this poem addressed to you,
O my beautiful Lori Lynn!


June 25, 2002 
--Alexander Shaumyan