Still lake lies silently under the boats.
Only the most attuned ear can detect
the kiss of the water as it rises,
slightly, to the cheek of the basking craft.
Occasional clouds patiently pretty
themselves in aqua’s shimmering mirror,
as fell stands in observance of this day,
which passes in pristine contemplation
by the shores of this Great Lake Windemere.
Painted memories of perfect delight
radiate across my face, as my eyes
behold a scene from my sweet honeymoon.
Remembrance casts its magical lure, and
I’m fixed to the spot as images play:
drifting through deer dotted woodland dreams, where
we were entwined just as the tree’s branches,
conversation flowed with the river’s course,
and we followed nature’s path through our love.
In a flash my mind walks on and into
darkness. Wet Windemere on winter night –
memory now standing with another:
a different lover. Someone else to
move me, setting my heart a sail on strange,
yet familiar routes of strong attachment.
Sadness takes hold at giving you up to
idealist notions my passion demands.
Two pasts disappear, just as they appeared.
The present steps me back from the painting.
I walk slowly away from the marriage
souvenier. Brushstrokes blush with my betrayal,
joy and pain combine in a frame hanging
squarely on the wall of my new villa;
a home alone, a home that’s without you.
My heart wished that it had more room for you.
Then calm returns in acknowledging that
there’s always the ebb and flow of feeling.
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