To My Oldest Love

I did not pen this, but I wanted to share this with all of you.  I was given this the other night from a dear friend who has known me most of my life.  It is written to me from him, and Yes, he was my first true love.

The gap between us, so it seems hasn’t been this tight in years.

That’s what worries me and depresses me.

I never stopped loving the 16-year old girl with angst against the world.

It’s weird, but somehow it is too irresistible to now blow some heat over the coals.

To watch them glow from the cold gray ash; black and white timbers to deep molten red.

But hold back from a full out flame; blue angels dance of devils sin.

For the innocent surely would not understand.

So on the other hand, as the man in the Stetson would say,

A tip of the hat with a finger on the brim,

Wish me luck that someday I may be back again.


W. C.

This short note brought a great deal of emotion to the surface for the one that was my first love and he still is in my heart today.



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