200 Miles

Would we imagine seeing so far in our lives

we could predict or at least know

beauty we perceive eventually arrives

within the miles we might choose to go

to find her heart, hold his smile

we are consumed is a mystique on trial.

~

I once knew someone in a decade long ago,

where we were children by standard in age

and yet the romantic airs of a time shall go

as a summer breeze will define this adage

as memory in a nostalgic interlude swoon

for do we seek elegance inside our moon.

~

Could be there might a confusion over come

the wonder of how lives would today become

so lovely, so unimaginably important in eye

those places we go to search our silent sigh.

In his smile there is a rather pleasant curl

of lip that would define his own head a swirl.

~

Love might be a language we will all desire

if in favor known travels a passionate fire.


© Thom Amundsen 1/2021