“For such is the way of it; to find and lose, as it seems to those whose boat is on the running stream.” – J. R. R. Tolkien – The Lord Of The Rings

Summer waned and fall drifted in
Beneath a crisp blue sky,
The days grew short, the world yawned wearily
And the wind began to sigh.
The branches of trees bent laden
With leaves of autumn gold,
The long star-filled nights
Were wondrous to behold.

On a day in mid Autumn
The sky burned aflame,
Yet shadows veiled the path
From whence my love came.
Her auburn hair
Wownd like strands of mahogany
As it curled its way
Down shoulders of ivory.
The sea lapped in her eyes,
A deep blue-green,
A child’s simplicity abounded in my love,
That no mortal eye has seen.

In a dream I saw,
A messenger in white
His snowy hair and beard flowed long
His garments shone with light.
Knowledge I read in the wells of his eyes
And they twinkled blue as sapphire.
A silver trumpet rang in the night
And the vision kindled fire.
I, the Stray Wanderer, beheld my destiny
For my love had come, at last.
My cup overflowed with gladness
And my burdens fled into the past.
As the messenger departed
I thanked Fate seven times seven,
And the stars glittered like diamonds
On the high beaches of Heaven.
For here at the end of Autumn
Summer laughed anew in me,
On an angel’s wings my love had come
And she was mine to be.

The days turned gray, the world a soft white,
Snow blanketed the air.
The wind blew cold, the grass fell withered,
And the branches of trees grew bare.

Then a long sunless day
Began to unfold
And doom came upon me
The messenger returned
His voice boomed like thunder
“Alas, Alas!
I must rend your paths asunder.”
I saw with consternation
His robe ashen black
“What you have received
Fate will now take back.”
Then my love spoke words
Of farewell without warning
She would thus leave
And I would wear mourning.
The heart of my love was not given to me
Of that, at last, I felt sure
Beyond the gates of Eternity
This parting would endure.

Winter dragged to its bitter end
As countless times before
And of its cold and desolate days I sang,
For summer sang in me no more.
As a ship setting sail from havens lost forever
This tale has journeyed to its end,
Other tales and other loves I may find
But this love will come not again.

By Omar Binno