James Walter Orr
I walked a path that climbed
through autumn's leaf strewn bed
along a hill.
The wind moaned through the trees
along the path that led
beside the mill.
I saw a woman dance
as some innocent child:
Turned back pages of time
in ritual free and wild.
It was twilight.
The wild wind raised her dress;
her gypsy rhythm beat
made not one miss.
An angel then appeared
and with a show of heat
bestowed a kiss.
A chill went down my spine;
my heart turned into stone,
or it did seem.
I'll never be the same.
I'll always walk alone,
me and my dream.
James Walter Orr's Other Poems
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(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
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