Love is abloom
For a cousin and friend,
Something which makes me
Both happy,
And envious.
Life
Has not been easy
For her;
After losing her husband
At so young an age,
She despaired
Of finding love again,
But lightening seems to have struck
A second time
And brought her
Another chance
At happiness.
I do not resent her joy
But I would be
Less than honest
If I denied
My own forlorn
And battered heart.
How I wish
I could know
What it means
To be a part
Of a two-some,
To know what it's like
To whisper sweet words
And hear them
In return,
To share my life
And anticipate a future
With someone
By my side.
Maybe someday
My chance
And my own prince
Will come.
Maybe...someday.
Take a hard look at yourself and change. Writing poetry will never attract anyone, but getting out there and being available will. Wishful thinking will not meet anyone, but maybe out there on the hiking trail someone will be hiking the same trail every day and strike up a conversation.
On the other hand, I've hiked many a trail alone, for many a year, and never saw another soul. But I'm not alone now, and that's what counts.
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On the other hand, I've hiked many a trail alone, for many a year, and never saw another soul. But I'm not alone now, and that's what counts.
Ron
budd