Strangers to Love

Trees, the brook, the rock and the fields,
All that saw, smelt, felt and heard
How we, not taking any notice of them
That stared at us with their mouths open,
Having entangled our hands, eyes and ears,
Walked along this road, the village foot path,
Dreaming and humming like bees in a hive,
Are smiling at us with a mock in their eyes.

We are now walking in the same old way,
But you are lagging far behind me,
Letting me lead you like a leader of a heard.
If they wouldn’t hear me, I would cry,
“Come, let us entangle our hands and eyes;
Let them laugh if they want at our grey hairs,
Grey eyes, wrinkled faces, and our slow walk,
But they may feel that our love is not so old.”

Image source: Pixabay