Woe to the wonder

There is a love that is blossoming,
and it is magnificent.

I must add that this love has very rarely been seen before,
quite literally...
It was a while ago that a man decided,
and a while ago since he departed.

But he is back now,
and I ought to tell you that he didn't come alone.

I'm glad they returned.
I'm as glad as a field of sunflowers at dawn,
for it was a long dark night in Yorkshire.

I listened to him you know,
that man,
the man who came back.
I listened to what he had to say about love.
And I can tell you,
I hung on every word...
a tear of truth rolled down my cheek.
Saviour.

He talked of a love that I had imaged when I was child,
woe to the wonder,
woe to the innocence.
For a while, I didn't know where that child went.
It was like he ran away from me, not wanting to be found.
Although I caught him once when he wasn't looking...
but it was easy to catch him then though,
for he,
well...
he was sat silently still-
gazing out of an autumn window,
just staring,
...not smiling,
just...
...starring.
I called his name to surprise him with a gift,
but... he was too far gone out to sea,
life capsizing...
What happened to all those promises?
Back then tears didn't roll down my cheeks,
they just froze in my heart.

Well anyway,
I wish not to burden you any further with my days of yore,
but the man who came back,
you know,
the one who talked of the love that I had once imagined...
...I can't thank him enough.

Woe to the wonder.
Woe to the innocence.
There is a love that is blossoming,
and it is magnificent.