I have been unable
To cure myself
Of this long held obsession
I have tried, believe me
Yet every time I throw
Another stone into the water
I smile to myself, politely
I watch the ripples
Dappled and stippled with light
In the deep of night
Her memory is falling
From the moon and stars
As I lay in my bed
I spin the words to thread
The lost love which is calling
Without pad or pen or pencil
I repeat the words
Hoping that my sleep
Will not take them away
But of course it does
So frail is my obsessed mind
