By The Store

Rating: 4.8

One ordinary night, when you are playing with your fingernail
By the store, my dreary eyes are filled with seldom pleasure,
Of finding alone right before them a hidden treasure,
Proudly in triumph, as many a voracious eye fail
To discover man’s self-effaced worth. Yet let it be,
So selfish me can be your sole company.
But, alack, when finally my eyes are free to see thee,
And ears to hear love’s first symphony,
Thou look away, freely, the heavenly melody desists,
Restoring my ordinary life, where nothingness persists.

Ernestine Northover 28 March 2008

Such a sad moment, but perhaps these moments are just a fleeting part of our lives, not to be pursued. Delightful poem. Nicely captured. Love and hugs Ernestine XXX

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Melvina Germain 31 August 2006

I agree with Will Barber 'you really are a poet'--I like this very much-Melvina

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Will Barber 09 May 2006

I liked this very much - but it should be thou 'look'st' - still, a poignant write. I'm going to bed now, but I'll read your other poetry later. You definitely are a poet.

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