As If I Shouldn'T Have Poem by Christian Allen

My memories churn, and run and work.
Of the time I met you by the brook.
You, dressed for summer’s sake.
I, a man with a wife to take.

My shoes are cold, my sweet, smothering.
Yet the late summer sun, is determined,
To win from me, my back.

Help me, birds, give her a song.
Grass and sand, sooth her feet.
Tender wind, comb her hair.
Sun, warm her face for me.

France and India, exotic things,
And what we think life, for us brings.
We sat, by the shore, nothing more.

Oh, how you hand was nice,
As it lay in mine and sand in between.
I loved it when I made you smile,
Oh, let’s just sit here for a while.