The irony of life, we learn too late, we can’t have everything we want.
I remember you, a breathtaking beauty who listen to my words, my poetry.
You held my hands and we discussed everything.
I knew I loved you and I remember those marvelous hazel eyes,
those eyes made me forget I was Winter and you were Summer.
You played your guitar and you sang to me at the Monterey bay every weekend.
I told you, “You are more wonderful than the sea, a miracle to my eyes.
Love is fool’s gold, we are always too early or too late to know the ambrosia of love.
I wish I knew you yesterday, when you were a tumble weed in Texas desert.
Now we are stealing time and I am just falling at your feet, needing to hear your
voice and steal some kisses.”
You laughed at my words and your whispered. “You are my soulmate, my California kindness and I live a lonely life. We befall into places where we cannot escape. Dear
Johnnie, we kiss and we never tell. I love how you see me, I feel so beautiful in your eyes.
You make me feel special and you my rare kindness received.”
Today I hold letters, pretty words written from a faraway angel. I raised my whiskey, tell the lonely ashtray, “To the most beautiful girl I had ever knew. To fool’s gold and wishing well wishes. The murderers of our kindness.”