The next few postings are on the subject of star-crossed love affairs. (Not autobiographical.) Possible tissue warning!

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We have come to a crossroads in life, my love;
tell me, which way should I go?
An inner voice, gentle with scorn, replies;
at twenty, you would not have doubted,
you would not have doubted so.

I must choose a pathway to follow, my love; bittersweet is the game I must play;
sweet, to fold you into my arms,
and bitter to turn away, my love;
to turn, and walk away.

I must choose the pathway alone, my love;
the choice must be swift and soon;
for, though we walk close in step; you and I;
you dance to different tune, my love;
you dance to another ones tune.

And so, it is done, the choice has been made... this secret, soft dreaming is done;
as lovers, perhaps we'd have soared; you and I;
but, sadly our time has now run, my love,
for I know that I'm not The One.

The thoughts of the heart run both subtle and deep,
on dark wings of sorrow, they fly,
other soft poems will surely be made;
but, no more for you and I, my love;
no more for you and I.