At The Dawn Of Love, Did They Part.

She - a wanderer, from moor to meadows,
ocean to land, and woods to willows,
- sat by the woods, thinking of those faces,
that have walked past her and left no traces.

A handful of faces, stayed forever in her heart.
Some came, left and came again for their part.
Some left to never look back,
others stayed and played the sly jack.

A fellow wanderer walked in and sat beside her.
Not a glimpse she took, at that stranger.
They sat there watching the day turn black.
He got up and walked into the dark.

He walked in again at the break of dawn.
She peeked at his mask that resembled a fawn.
She wondered what lay behind his mask,
the truth or a lie!? – It’s a tough task!

They sat silent all day, fearing each other’s masks.
At the brink of dusk he left for his tasks.
As it dawned he would walk in,
he’d half smile and she’d yield in.

A week of Smile and silence ensued
and soon, an unspoken friendship bloomed.
She wondered why daily he reappeared
was it for her company or was his path so weird?

She got up to leave, and their eyes met,
‘Leaving?’, ‘I’m a wanderer and my time is set’.
She willed him to stop her, and he willed her not to leave.
Not a word they said, parting was meant to be.

Many a faces had she seen,
faces with masks, smiles and deceitful means.
As she walked away, she thought of his face.
His respect for her, had won him the highest place.

Another smile or word, may form a bond,
of friendship which’d either end or go beyond.
She preferred parting, knowing him hence,
to admire his face forever at this distance.

For flowers are beautiful when seen far-off.
A closer look at them, and your eyes may scoff.
A tender touch, the petals may wither,
And soon you’ll wish to see them from afar.