For my Sweetest Lady Critics.... They will know of whom I speak.

    

If I had, but a different path, set out upon, those years ago,
would I have found you, far away across the waters?
Who can know?
I would like to think that our thoughts might have touched, some way... somehow,
but, what has gone before, is lost forever;
all we have... is now.

When first I plied this poet trade, there really was no deep intent
or thought
to meddle with emotions. Words I rhymed, and blithely sent
away into the ether; out to who knows whom, and who knows where;
how could I know someone would find them
rather sweet... and passing, fair?

For, to me... they were just poems; hopes and dreams, in simple rhyme.
The stuff of which romance is made; soft and gentle... no design
to tamper with the heart strings, or to stroke the thoughts
in such a way
that might have sparked some thoughts, not wanted...
It was just a game to play.

But, that was then; the clock moves on. A tiny, subtle change of hue;
I've gently touched a heart out there, somewhere...
sometime...
somehow...
but, who?
Not purposely... no vain attempt to use my guile, a heart to snare;
in truth, I find my own heart trapped
by her thoughts... sweet beyond compare.

And that, then, is the tragedy... our thoughts and words, are all that we
can share, this time around... sweet muse;
Romancers, though we both may be.
Perhaps, next time, if there indeed, is such a thing... and fate is kind;
our paths will cross again, and I can love you all...
not just your mind.

And, now the day is closing fast; I stand upon a distant shore,
and cast my hopes and dreams into the gathering dusk,
and hope, once more
my silent voice will carry on the whispering night winds far above;
and find their way to you... to softly touch your gentle heart...
with love.