My true love
had a silver hair
all sprung
amidst her raven
locks
with playful pain
she mocked me
as I drew it from those
glossy strands
and looked at me
a smile that struck again
the heart her smile re-made
*
A quarter century on
comes back that moment
as I sit alone
Though she long lost & gone
I still know where
in secret
lies that cherished thread
that binds me & the one I loved
& will
‘til someone throws it out
Or I die dead.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem