Last Love Poem by Barry Middleton

Last Love



First love is enchanting,
to temp us with allure

and passion in a kiss,
yet never is secure.

Seasons come and go,
but we can never block

relentless destiny,
the ticking of the clock.


Love grants a parting kiss.
But love which is forgone,

brings the chill of winter
that we must face alone.

For final love is memory
of one we can't forget,

a last dance at midnight,
and ghostly pale regret.

Tuesday, February 2, 2016
Topic(s) of this poem: love and loss
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