Not Love

I sought for words,
And longed to hear it said.
Unfaltering I partook,
And feared that it was dead.

It did not blossom,
Nor on the air was sent.
In laughter on the countryside,
It was so sorely spent.

All through the daylight hours,
It was compared to doom.
The lifted hand was left unfelt,
And came at night with gloom.

The glance was never given,
No eye gleam to sustain.
All efforts seemed disaster,
And hit the heart in pain.

So many years of life it took,
To delve the heights above.
No gesture of those sacred realms,
Could ever....call it love.

E.P. 1908 - 1989