The song I have yet to sing.

in answer to the wordpress prompt challenge ‘unsung hero’ for dec 15th 2014.



Today I read your letter recalling long ago
Telling me you still craved my loving heart.
More, that this craving still torments you so
That you wish we had made love, not strayed apart.

Who told you that my frozen heart was broken?
Who saw those shattered shards of ice ?
My darling, doubt not my loving or your own
For a passion like ours is no temporal device.

My life is filled with heroes I have seen
In every field of fame, some aged some young.
Yet none approaches what to me you’ve been,
My own unrequited love, and still unsung.

For more than fifty years your smiling face,
Strengthening my faith, belief and certainty
That God would sustain us by His love,
And reunite us both for ever in eternity,

Has helped me live through ages of despair
Lest never again would I touch your silken skin,
Your face, your arms, the beauty of your hair;
Nor kiss again your lips, nor hear you sing.

And so in all my prayers and all my praise,
I keep alive the fire that once we knew.
For, although we have reached our Autumn days,
Those shards of ice may yet kindle flames anew.

And even if we have to wait for paradise
Before we meet again, in heaven above.
There I’ll be your Dante and you my Beatrice,
As we kiss again, hearts entwined in timeless love.


Anton Wills-Eve