Do I love him, or love him not,
This was the answer my troubled heart sought.
There was nothing etched in my memory,
Of the love he vowed he had for me.
His voice is now but a whisper on the wind,
His image just a mist, a figment, just pretend.
I search among mementos and am filled with despair,
I find nothing he gave me to prove he cared.
Did I love him, or love him not?
The battle for love's survival had never been fought.
As I pulled the petals from the Passion Flower his love had brought,
As the last petal fell, I knew I loved him not.
You heart had already known for it needs no questions no answers, it knows. Listen to your heart my friend for it will lead you to true love where you will have no doubts. Love, Bonnie
Such a difficult question to ask, SC, but not only do you answer it well you answer it with grace and style....and that inevitable touch of regret.
John
A search for the ghost of a chorus girl chorine haunting a costume designer’s Manhattan apartment leads to an encounter with an eccentric, mischievous witch with the ability to send folks back through time…in this case, the 1919 Ziegfeld Follies.
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If only for a moment.
Tony
Fee
John
Newfie hugs, Rose
Be always safe,
Karen
that is small comfort. Still, SC you do this so well. -gene.
Sandie Angel :o)