gladly do I play the fool
despite persistent ache
born of the cool dismissal
of each caper that I make
reminded am I of a time
when hope burned bright and hot
and though 'twas naught but fantasy
it made me smile a lot
to contemplate a place and time
where more than thought I'd give
to what the witching hour'd bring
as blown on embers live
in mind's eye and in yearning heart
'pon whom such feelings fall
it's clear there never could be doubt
truth is I love you all
© 2015 Frederick Andrew ~ All Rights Reserved
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