Second Love: By Melissa Spellman

Second Love By Melissa Spellman
Staff Reporter
New Journal and Guide

Second Love

He was to me a sacred keep,
took a silent vow did we.
Folded hands bowed on knee,
to honor, to love, him, God, and me.

In bliss we lived in our youth.
Flying, dreaming, all and nothing to do.
Drunk on vibes and sweet honeydew.
We lived, we loved, all and through.

Too many flowers to pick and choose.
The season changes as do moods.
We argued, fought, broke the rules.
Decisions are inevitable whatever we choose.

I think of him often, now and again.
A sadness, a joy, a frown, and a grin.
I wonder too, what could have been
if time and space aligned in the end.