O Time

Written in the summer of 2009, this poem has seen the weeks of wandering it describes turn into months and years, all without my dear Courtney.  Otherwise, it is as true now as it was then.  I miss you, my darling…


O Time, won’t you return to me
The hours I spent sleeping?
My waking life so far removed,
I could not feel her hand in mine,
Nor could I smell her fragrant hair
Or gaze into those watchful eyes.
These hours lost in reverie
Would better have been shared with her,
And dreaming of her loveliness
Is something I now do alone.

O Time, won’t you return to me
The days that she spent working?
Her fingers on the pipette tips
Could not inspire them to smile,
And from those muted autoclaves
Not even she could coax a sigh.
No graduated cylinder
Could fill her heart with butterflies-
Yet now I sit and write these words
With darling Courtney far away.

O Time, won’t you return to me
The weeks that I spent wand’ring?
The rolling landscapes I beheld:
Her body puts them all to shame.
The rising sun in foreign lands
Cannot compete with her fair smile.
Her shining eyes I’d rather see
Than any city, old or new,
And travel loses its mystique
Without her to accomp’ny me.

O Time, won’t you return to me
These hours, days and weeks?
With them I will return to her,
To her, return to her…


About anotherexilefromparadise

I am a writer, by passion if not by profession.
This entry was posted in Friendship, Memories, Thoughts, Travel and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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