reflections

an incurable romantic
at fifteen
dreams, hopes, promises
dreams of someone special
I would meet her - someday
hopes of a perfect love
we would have that - someday
promises to reserve
the ultimate expression of love
my love
for her
others would come
and go - or stay
with them I would share everything
give anything
except the one thing
reserved
for her

a cured romantic
by twenty six
with no more dreams
with no more hopes
only an old promise
survives
but she never came
stop looking
no waiting
the end of a long
and fruitless journey
others, there had been
the last now gone
with each I shared my heart and more
everything
except the one thing
reserved
for her

an incurable cynic
in later years
tired, cold, alone
memories of anyone special
now lost to me forever
and you stand before me
reflections of a memory
you lay in my arms
and I love you
I am fifteen and I know
I have found her
I am old now and I know you
will be my last love
though you could not be my first
for anything
except the one thing
reserved
for you