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The Brave


In spring of youth, I met a girl

With chestnut hair, and flowing curls.

She filled my world with butterflies,

I shivered when I chanced her eyes;

And never did my lips once part

To tell her what was in my heart.

I took instead my words within,

And shared them with a passing wind.

It whispered in a soft reply

The answer that it gave:

Love rewards the brave, my child,

Love rewards the brave.

Rivers later, oceans crossed,

I sat and cried, completely lost

Between the bedding and the door,

Half-naked on a wooden floor.

With smells of soy and frankincense,

I contemplated my defense;

While asking in my heart, now scarred:

“Why does it have to be so hard?”

It whispered in a soft reply

The answer that it gave:

Love rewards the brave, my child,

Love rewards the brave.


The traffic home, the tragic news,

Two flights of stairs, the summer blues,

A table full of waiting things,

The Tempter of Surrendering.

How much I would have loved to find

Perfection without even trying,

And as gently lay my head

Upon my grave, as now - my bed…


A wind goes by in soft reply;

The answer that it gave:

Love rewards the brave, my child,

Love rewards the brave.







Where credit is due:

I used a couple of quotes in this poem. The first four words are from Edgar Allan Poe, and the end of the fifth stanza is by Thomas Browne. It fit in there so nicely, I couldn't resist :)

The photo is by Adam Kontor, pexels.com

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