Above the snow line

(20 minute poetry)

crept through the spyglass and into my eyes where looks passed between us that made us both blush,
no rush, she said
somewhere inside my head and the evening lit up like a firework bursting way up in the sky.

I couldn’t die a worse death now if I didn’t taste her lips how I have longed for this moment to come.

The sun rose before we had satisfied, what she said was true and to me who has lorded over a continent, if ladies are such as can be islands to me could see that this maybe was indeed the fine lady I had spied through the spyglass so long ago.

Many years at the oasis have caused me to kiss many a more toad and this new road I rise on is the road I set eyes on and with good hope in my heart I go on.

It’s a parable,
A take on misfortune and the men who die too soon and a true love that pulls through in the end.

© 2015, John Smallshaw.