Study in Rhyme
Tonight, I’m left to grieve the empty chair
which gathers dust and holds old secrecies
the views that you espoused whilst sitting there
of masters, wives and common decency
I must not dwell on strangers of the past
their appearances catching me off guard
or question any moves that you’ve amassed
now that you’ve heard I lack in that regard.
I remained vague about your orange light
as beautiful scenes to Impressionists
and when I’m asked to remember or write
it’s true, I won’t recall the times we’ve kissed.
But now, there is no start or end of you.
The empty chair won’t miss you like I do.