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The Celtic told me of stories
that may be true or false.
Of a great God and all
His glories.
That may be true or false.
And time, for sure, is of
no essence
within eternity.
And pain has no true
lasting presence
for those who do believe.
But believe I do, I told
him so
yet pain is all my day.
And believe I do, I told
him so
while pain was all my way.
Year and two in wedlock I
was now
with dreams still of Janice.
And all this love
dropping from my brow
I hid with so much risk.
It is not that bad, the
Celtic said.
One falls in love with life.
But life is time which
burrows ahead.
One falls in love with life?
My hands do shake, my
head does hurt
and you speak of a god?
Nickel's lending, that's
its worth
for those who seek the sod.
But if you find an answer
for me
to wipe her from my mind,
then marriage will be
peaceful for me
and I will give you my time.
This
poem got me in so much trouble with Patty, my wife. However, it was
written several years before I ever met Pat - my first wife. Janice
Sciambia was my teenage romance. |
