That Night At Saint Stephen's - Visitor's Love Poem

by Francis X. Reilly (Corky Pflegmhocker)
(Williamsport, PA, U.S.A.)

I remember that night at Saint Stephen's-
my very first pitch at romance.
I remember that night very clearly, dear friend-
And you asked me to dance.
And to see us, you'd think we were lovers-
but we were just kids, you and I...
when I think of that night at Saint Stephen's,
I pause, and I ask myself why...

Why did I let you escape me?
You loved me...and everyone knew!
And why after all of these years have gone by
am I sitting here thinking of you?
And the perfume you wore was like Heaven.
Was it Lila's? Oh, how indiscreet!
But it's essence remains-
like the essence of you-
and it burns ever sweet...ever sweet.

When they told me the terrible news
I perceived the whole thing as a curse!
And nothing...NO NOTHING!
I swear to you, Barbara,
Has ever...COULD ever be worse.
And my love is much more than just reverence-
much more than respect for the dead-
much more than our dance at Saint Stephen's-
and more than the words...never said.

Copyright Francis X. Reilly 2000

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