(*I figured if Shakespeare can write a hundred than I can too.)
I loved the girl who lived next door to me.
Her eyes were blue and clear and sang with joy.
She was the sun, the grass, the trees, and stream.
Her hair was blond and bobbed just like a boy.
Then something happened or was it just fate?
The summer ended and the snow began to fall.
The Garden froze and ice locked up her gate.
Kid’s icy jeers piled up the labyrinth’s wall.
The schools and churches crammed our time of play.
We boys formed clubs; girls spoke in secret codes.
The flowers froze; exuberant dancing went away,
And natural feelings morphed to vaudeville shows.
The dragon stole the treasures of our life.
Until you lift her veil, her love will die.
© 2008 Stephen Pickering
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