How is my love when she's alone?
Miles apart and doesn't phone.
Where is the justice that lets us pine?
Is the pain hers and also mine?
Why does distance keep us apart?
One from t'others counterpart.
When will our meeting, time, allow?
Fate and action, mixed somehow.
The passion of action forces this:
To enjoy a worthy, heartfelt kiss!
Lovers must feel both pain and pleasure,
Which time nor distance cannot measure.
Expect love it may not be there;
Run from it and it will dare
To chastise and win you back,
It goes like that it has this knack.
When it flows smooth as a valley's stream,
Sly destiny knows its cunning scheme.
Ethereal threads bond it together
To sway around in all types of weather.
Love can return with a sparkle,
Like Mr Hyde and Dr Jekyll.
Charles McMullen's Other Poems
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Comments about this poem (The Wait by Charles McMullen )
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(22 March 1941 -)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
(22 August 1893 - 7 June 1967)
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