Golden haired and golden hearted:
the angel with an imp in his eye,
a smile that launches laughter
breaking the heart
touching the soul.
I can’t count your tomorrows -
your visit may not last for long.
Knowing you cannot be sorrow
but you'll leave me
with a melancholy song.
The emptiness of your leaving
will be the selfishness of love.
A gloom of anticipation
fills my awareness of
the halo
in the glint of your eye,
the present warmth
of your embrace.
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