LOVE ON THE HILL

Love was the Indian summer.

Love was a daffodil.

Love was one  summer morning

When I met a boy on the hill.

The hill reached up to heaven

And was covered with flowers bright.

The wind was singing softly,

” Love him with all your might.”

I looked at him in the sunlight.

An angel he seemed to be…

My soul blossomed like a flower

And I loved him tenderly.

My soul floated free in sunshine.

It danced in the flowers gay.

He swore he would love me always

‘Til the stars had passed away.’

And like a child I believed him.

I kissed him softly there

On the hill by a sparkling river.

The kiss was like a prayer.

We talked on the hill ’til sundown.

We made plans of future years.

He promised to meet me tomorrow

As he wiped away my tears.

I came to the hill the next morning.

I watched ’til the twilight came.

I stood on the hill in hurt silence

And whispered again his name.

Every year in the early summer

I come to this hill alone

To weep in the sweet-smelling clover

For the love I had scarcely known.

  Yu/stan/kema (age 21)