Charlotte Mair -- Love Poem

SONG OF THE SOUTH

Ten years have passed, but not his face __it lingers on
To see him is to yearn for home
As a vagrant walking aimlessly, within a realm of fantasy and forgotten land;
I reside and seek some morsel of life or love to grasp
Lamp in hand __ ever-seeking, digging up old graves
And a tear steals its way on the quiet of this cheek
As I hide away from reality, to keep his love, frozen inside

To see his face, is to find light and sweetness of conversation
It is a visit to the south; to be taken home with a song on my lips
It is a picnic, with the finest tastes of summer,
    or the whirling-twirling leaves on a crisp autumn day;
      Crunching a snowy winter of smiles; guitar singing sweetly __ pleasing my ears;
        Treasures for a lady

Rains pound my secrets, on a southern gazebo
Drifting me to sleep, where I wrap around his love
For as many loves pass me by, there will be your smiling face;
In soft scented magnolias, white verandas and wisteria flowing down tall posts;
It is there I will stay, until we meet on some future plain,
where we can share each other in full

If nothing my dear, I will dream
And be cradled in the arms of love
Hoping that the bitter taste of loss, will once more leave my tongue

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