The summer that I was seventeen,
My heart was an open door.
It welcomed all comers, sight unseen
And trusted the smiles they wore.
They came in a whirl of want and words,
Those feckless and false young men.
They tore at my heart like hungry birds
And never came back again.
I never knew any then.
I longed for a place where reason rules
And appetites are denied,
Where blood that is heated quickly cools
Away from the world outside.
A haven where I could hide.
I found it at last
Amid the manuscripts here.
So thankfully tranquil,
Time drifted past my safe,
Sweet harbor of harmony,
So enchantingly austere.
And now without warning, you appear
So passionate, young and fair,
Assaulting the thing I hold most dear,
With a toss of your sunlit hair.
Your hint of a smile, your almost arrogant grace
So carelessly carried, cannot beguile the cruel and Terrible tyranny and that oh so heartless face.
And all that I once had yearned to be,
Whatever I did not dare is everything I can sense and see in your at this moment there.
And suddenly, serenity,
Is merely a word I heard somewhere.
Last Update: March, 15th 2015