how he wears his wounded heart
so stoically upon his finely chiseled
face
such prominence beneath those sullen
edges of pain
to the sensitive eye
quite easy enough to trace
that vacant blue stare
the pale plane of a once so proud cheek
the set of a granite jaw
seems out of place when
compared to those aching eyes so
hollow yet meek
that mask of polite indifference
how for others comfort he slips it
off then on at startling intervals
for the love of God
the man, a captain no less, is a
walking treasure of masculinity
and all that such adornments to a male
specimen allows
and then we look at her
a docilely lead tender mouse of a woman
who's happiness was butchered before its
rightful time to soar
her loss so great
she's eight years since lived in the shadows
why of even her self
a door mat for her family and little more
few prospects and even less else
his return
a fiery painful reminder
deep in her womanly breast
of her youthful misleading
by experienced others
who diminished their blossoming love
in the wake
of what they, themselves considered right
and good for a girl of her age and status
at the tender turn of just nineteen
now at twenty and seven
through a flick of fate's remarkable hand
her Captain once is back
and through a painful field of sporadic
interaction
the flame leaps to life to burn again
blessed are those who's hearts
even in once hopeless spiral
to an excruciating end
are able to recapture that one
great abiding love
and enjoy it to its fullest felt life
once again...............
(Jan. 23,2008 1105pm)