First Kiss

I've walked down this path a million times,
The ivy intertwines itself around the trees,
And shrubs
It's spring.

In the distance I hear the town clock chime,
The brook has released the winter snow
That blanketed her,
She flows into a river not far from here,
The aroma of honeysuckle wafts through the air,
It's fragrance overpowers the senses;

It's not by chance that we meet,
He holds my hand.
We stop.
He kisses me gently on the lips,
The only sound I hear is the beating of my heart,
The war summons him,
He must fight for our country;
We pledge a vow,
I will wait for his return,

So many winters have come and gone,
It's spring again,
The crocus and daffodils are peeking through
The warm soil,
They have awakened from their hibernation,
The ivy still climbs;

Streaks of gray run through my hair,
My gait is much slower now,
I can feel his presence;
The aroma of honeysuckle fills the room,
But all my tears will not bring him back.

I think I'll walk by the brook today.

© Janice Bumbalough Marler
August 20, 2006
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