November's Tryst

I remember
November’s tryst -
A brief precious eternity.
You were here
And all that mattered.
It was idyllic.
I mocked the moan of wind,
The lashes of rain
On the window pane,
Welcoming winter.
I grasped
The promise of you,
The assurance of your warmth.
In my arms
As I held you
I basked in your enchanting aura.
In that golden time
On the other side of never,
On the edge of forever,
It was all I needed.
But the intenseness,
Like that of a sudden summer storm,
Was switfly spent and squandered;
And much too soon
All that was left
Was whine of wind
And rush of rain,
And a lover’s whispered sigh...


© Copyright 2011 Regis Auffray