Rhymes in Red: a collection of poems by D. W. Christian

Walden Way

I nailed my heart to asphalt dark
That they call Walden Way.
That house in back the culdesac
Where I, in mid of May,
Surrendered all my rise and fall-
So sure, I wrote in stone.
And since that day, my love, my hate
Belongs to her alone.

Her eyes have since not spared a wince
Or e'en a passing glare
At me or mine and cannot find
A reason for to care.
This silence I cannot abide,
But she cannot agree,
For Father's word is law ensured
And Father censures me.

And I recall the darkened pall
That shadowed o'er my wreck;
It moved my hope to tie the rope
Around my open neck.
But I'd not leap into the deep,
So I stepped down from there.
If I had moved my life to lose,
Our love would not repair.

So patience shall be my morale
Until she moves her mind,
And time I know with all it's woe
Is neither rapt nor kind.
But I've not lost my albatross;
Perhaps this hope will do.
If Heaven grants a second chance,
Then maybe she will too.