there was a time
your smile would
light up my room
the beauty of your
eyes pulled me
into a dream
these were the days
when love seemed
so simple
but in truth,
we learned that true
love is not always
wine and roses
- Written for dVerse Quadrille #239: Smile
Very true, love is a fickle thing.
ReplyDeleteIndeed. Thanks for reading Di.
DeleteI want to know why those days can't continue. Why does that first part have to become a fantasy and the rest reality :(
ReplyDeleteTrue. Thanks for reading Lisa.
DeleteSad but true! Well done!
ReplyDeleteThank youb Dwight.
DeleteNice one
ReplyDeleteThanks for dropping by my blog
🎇much love
Thanks Gillena.
DeleteAwwww. This is sad, and deeply felt.
ReplyDeleteDe
Thanks De.
DeleteA knowing and succinctly conveyed poem - Jae
ReplyDeleteThank you so much Jae.
DeleteIt's a beautiful time when love comes easy.
ReplyDeleteSo true. Thanks for reading.
DeleteSobering, when a smile wasn't enough!
ReplyDeleteTrue. Thank you Petru.
Deletejust like the roses have thorns...
ReplyDeleteAnd sharp thorns at that. Thanks for reading Bjorn.
DeleteThere's a lot of truth in that last stanza.
ReplyDeleteThanks for reading Yvonne.
DeleteWine, roses and smiles that light up rooms sadly do not always last long, but true love has many expressions. Nicely done, Maria.
ReplyDeleteThank you Kim.
DeleteEric here. Sure enough. But can we hold both?
ReplyDeleteI would like to think we can. Thanks for reading Eric.
DeleteRoses will bloom again and wine gets better with age :)
ReplyDeleteYes. Thanks for reading Lynn.
DeleteAptly put, Arcadia. Learning that truth can be tough!
ReplyDeleteIt certainly can be. Thanks for reading Jennifer.
DeleteVery well written. 👏 Warm greetings from Montreal, Canada ❤️ 😊 🇨🇦
ReplyDeleteThank you Linda.
DeleteSo very true, Arcadia! Great poem!
ReplyDeleteYvette M Calleiro :-)
http://yvettemcalleiro.blogspot.com
Thanks Yvette.
DeleteThose were the days indeed! 👏
ReplyDeleteThanks for reading.
DeleteLove is always simplest at the beginning. Good poem, Arcadia!
ReplyDeleteThank you.
Delete