Upon This Lane

Upon this lane, in former times,
We’d see them, walking hand in hand;
A pretty girl, a handsome boy,
It seemed they had their futures planned,
Right here – in former times.

Upon this lane, the sunset fell,
And he walked by one day, alone,
For she was gone, that pretty girl,
And darkness in his eyes had grown
After the sunset fell.

Upon this lane he shuffles by,
A limping man you’d never know
Had been a lover in his time
As bright as any beam or bow –

For hearts beat on, when often they
Have lost their cause for beating;
The sheep are in the meadow now,
I hear them back there, bleating —

He walks now, with his hat and cane,
The sunset goes, the night comes on –
A handsome boy who lost his love
And waits to sleep, and find the dawn
Where he will touch her hand once more,
Upon this lane,
Upon this lane.

Author: Beleaguered Servant

Owen "Beleaguered" Servant (a/k/a Sibelius Russell) writes poetry mostly, with an occasional pause to have a seizure.

One thought on “Upon This Lane”

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