Sunset

She isn't, yet, the lady of my youth
who taught the virgin boy to slake his thirst
with water from the sea of life but, truth
be told she will forever be the first--

the first to find the man within the boy;
to challenge him to gamble; to explore;
the first to turn a sorrow to a joy;
to show my eyes an unfamiliar shore.

I moved from fears to hopes and hopes to fears
to see her make believe; to keep pretending;
this lady, in her gray and dismal years,
who steered away from any thought of ending--

Now, rest ye lady; gently down to sleep
within the ample bosom of the deep.

© 2006 W.D. Neighbors