The Black-eyed Susans wept into the frosty glen
That winter met unvisited, untouched, untrod.
The sunlight caught in a cup of lily
Was drunk only by empty sky,
Which smiling held forth but its cold grace.
O, touch the soft shoulders of these two unknowing lovers
And pull their hair back from their eyes
And gaze into the depths of two souls’ uncast journies!

Away they went, those two, to travel far,
Later well met in wonder: they’d been given wings each.
They gazed one upon another with childlike delight
Moved by a spontaneous song of former warrior lovers.
Marvelous the might of those who walk their path!

The old lullaby of a love song dwindled in the hall…
And the wine! O, pass it round!
Come, let us hear that tune that flies on the air like incense.

-Kevin Trammel, January 2020