Her lips were like an archer’s bow
Her lips were like an archer’s bow, Sharp eyes glinting, an arrow’s tip, Love’s pain piercingly slow.
One word, a poisonous dart, Bitter wine about to sip; Suspicious murmurs grow.
The day delayed, now time to part, Eternity’s unheeded blip; We reap what we forget to sow.
Slow beating of a broken heart, Dulled memories of a distant trip, Streams that now have ceased to flow;
Obstacles we failed to chart, Jealous wings we didn’t clip, Anger, that bruising blow.
Feelings rise before they dip Into the realm of darkest art. Her lips were like an archer’s bow, Love’s pain piercingly slow.
P.e.j. july 2009