March 21, 2017


I was false to you, My Darlin’, I know I made you grieve,
I left you in the mist past of dreams and make-believe,

I was looking for an idol, some kind of an ideal,
All the while you waited, close to me and real;

I mooned about a goddess, a phantom of my mind,
Living in a fairy land that I could never find,

I sought a special lady, someone not routine,
I fancied someone perfect, but what did “perfect” mean?

How could I think you lacking? That you were not enough?
That you were tainted by your troubles, someone too raw and rough?

Your struggles and your squabbles made you swear and sweat,
But you silenced all the liars, and paid off every debt;

You were eager about living, and always did hard work,
Ever strong and steady, not one to shrink or shirk;

You knew how to wrangle, to barter and to bicker,
How to haggle and to horse-trade with any fast-talk slicker,

There were times you had to call it quits, and fights you couldn’t win,
But you didn’t brood forever on all that might have been;

You knew when to laugh and loaf, and when it was time to play,
When to dream and ramble, and still not lose your way;

You weren’t like a mystic, moaning in a trance,
You loved to hoot and holler, you loved to sing and dance.

I was like Don Quixote, reaping ridicule,
Who thought he was a hero, but only was a fool,

Who wanted to be someone that he could never be,
To save a damsel in a castle in a land of reverie,

Now the years have fled from me, like flocks from winter flown,
And left me like a tumbleweed, drifting and alone;

I spent my strength on fantasy, searching for a prize,
The treasure I was looking for was in your loving eyes,

I lost your love forever, for being so untrue,
I knew too late, my dear one, that my ideal was you.

Copyright © 2017 Jim Douthit

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