a book of thoughts

Perhaps

Under the golden arches
Vines anew,
You kissed my hand
In springtime dew

You called my name
And told a tale
Of a merry old whale
Your legends all but tame

A kiss here
A whisper there

Seasons flew
And our hearts grew
Like springtime blossoms

Our love forbidden
But our hearts tied like ribbons

We danced
We sang

You told merry myths
Of long lost aisles
Ancient palaces
and Corridors high

But like a shadow in the sky
A scythe-like death
Blossoming Springtime
Turned withering winter

Our love forbidden
Perhaps
If only we were
A Prince and Princes

Like all those told us we had to be.

Instead of a poor milker's maid
And porcelain Princess