The well spring has run dry;
my muse has abandoned me.
Reason has silenced passion.
And while I will not openly shed a tear,
the truth remains for all to see;
I loved you once without reservation.
And though I no longer write about you,
every second, of every minute, of every hour
thoughts of you still haunt my waking and my dreaming.
W, you've done it again (as per a comment I made yesterday or the day before) . To know this feeling is... oh... something. Something brilliantly articulated by you here. This goes down as a favourite for me. And, I suspect, for somebody else. t x
Sometimes you really have to do what they say...and move on...though inveterating passion & true romance is hard to come by....it is harder to get it from out of your mind once you've tasted.......Great write, Bill...Good to see you on-line...an d on a visit to my work...Don't be a stranger... F. j.R.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Liking this one too!