Time To Spare Poem by Amanda May Moore

...and so I bid her farewell,
that incandescent sunrise. Warm,
yet cool with snow on the ground and
with her pearly green eyes
I tell her not to cry.
(oh how I despise goodbyes)

Of Belle I'll never permit my avid
heart to forget; the smell of her hair,
the fire of the great green eyes,
nor her facile spell
of wild laughter and wit
undying beauty and wisdom. Such
spells are these of my Belle.

As you stay home
I roam a foreign land and
I am afraid she'll never understand;
just how gray I am,
just how much I miss her,
and how I dream of the laughter
we have. Being here is hard my dear,
but the few months will soon disappear
and I'll once again hold you near.
We'll be a pair to flower.
With all the time to spare and devour.


(I have been translating a lot of poetry lately... so I figured I would write something... it is rather sad. sorry.)