7400
Love's Epitaph
By: Keith Fuchs
A humid afternoon in August
The temperature cool with brief gusts.
The skies are overcast
I step on to the porch, touched with brush.
I remember a girl from the past
Last moment I saw her, at the airport.
Three months, her exit was torture.
I collected my thoughts and wrote Love's Epitaph.
Alas, it was to be displayed in a showcase
In a poetry contest.
That wasn't my motive, it was a guise for me
to craft,
A story, a tale about triumph over defeat
Freeing myself from the chains which impede.
My ambition was simple, when I was young
I dreamt of love and affection.
Pouring from fountains, under the sun's confection.
There is no victory greater
But there can be no greater loss,
Then to lose the one who gave purpose to your course,
Yes, capital and possession are luxurious.
Exciting and fun, still tedious.
The colors of my love's irises,
They were mesmerizing and curious.
Switching from cerulean to olive green,
Contingent upon what she clothed, any given eve.
As I stated in previous poems,
She returned to her home,
The kingdom of England,
And now I am alone.
I annoited myself the knight to undertake the quest
To acquire the means to venture East permanent.
I would never look behind to the west,
My tenure was indeterminate.
I would not be deterred, you can tie me down with a hundred
tourniquets
Yet, I still will break free to see my darling Alison Elizabeth.
Trepidation and skepticism are a formidable schism,
Capable of shunning the rainbows of a bulbous prism.
I give them no recognition,
For I'm determined to complete the mission.
In the months that elapsed,
My beloved effectuate a careless act.
Placing her education and employment in a trap.
She found herself pregnant from smacking a flask of whiskey.
Inebriated unexpectedly, to realize what she was doing was risky.
This was not mine you see,
For since she left I've held celibacy.
I wanted no one else, despite her departure.
A single man I am, but had no infatuated markers.
Even if a supermodel was raw in starkers.
There is no incentive to barter.
Anxiety and her overwhelmed state,
Led to her a point, where she was failed to hesitate.
And now her life has changed forever
She to be wed to her friend, the father of this treasure.
Now, we can never be together, against my wish.
All this, from one time which was sporadic and foolish.
I told her, you should have called me with haste
I would given you my hand, but now we ruminate.
Sad, she said still loves me
I love her dearly, we both wished it was from me.
But it is not, and she is so far away
I'm reminded of her face, when the sky grows grey.
Her chestnut hair and piercing smile,
Where she inhabits, there's an aura docile.
She moved to Croydon in the south of Surrey
Now to head north to Leicester with fury.
These are locales I've never been
Yet when I arrive, in Great Britain.
My mission: to seek my beloved with whom I'm so smitten.
Our future it seems to be extinct and sold,
Love's Epitaph penned on a handkerchief fold.
To dry tears on both ends of the table,
Even now, I'd reach across the ocean to hold her
And delicately kiss her navel.
copyright 2013, Keith Fuchs all rights reserved.
www.facebook.com/myththepoet
www.youtube.com/myththepoet
