Spring Musing
Utrecht, March 16th 2015
As I am sitting here on a bus,
Enjoying the days leading up to spring in March,
My thoughts had gone to the brief memories I had with you.
I must admit, this is not something I am proud of.
As reminiscing something that had never started,
Only fools do that.
But then I’m just a human,
And as humanly as I can be,
Sometimes foolishness is what I embrace.
What if we didn’t end it the way we did?
Probably one of these days,
We would set up a date to walk in the park.
Just like you told me as something you’d enjoy.
Maybe we’d take another stroll in that city,
Where poems are written on the walls.
Enjoying the breeze of spring,
Or reciting those written poetic verses; laughing at my broken language.
And when we were tired, we’d sit,
And just be in each other’s company.
I would love that.
I know you would too.
We’ll watch the flowers color the day,
and people crowds the park,
appreciating the sun.
But I know I would be there,
Appreciating you.
But this is just my reverie,
Not even a memory.
‘Cause apparently time was not that friendly.
Perhaps, we’ll meet again.
One time, in another season.
Probably August will be kind.
And you, just like I, will once again try.
One day, under the summer sun.
As I am sitting here on a bus,
Enjoying the days leading up to spring in March,
My thoughts had gone to the brief memories I had with you.
I must admit, this is not something I am proud of.
As reminiscing something that had never started,
Only fools do that.
But then I’m just a human,
And as humanly as I can be,
Sometimes foolishness is what I embrace.
What if we didn’t end it the way we did?
Probably one of these days,
We would set up a date to walk in the park.
Just like you told me as something you’d enjoy.
Maybe we’d take another stroll in that city,
Where poems are written on the walls.
Enjoying the breeze of spring,
Or reciting those written poetic verses; laughing at my broken language.
And when we were tired, we’d sit,
And just be in each other’s company.
I would love that.
I know you would too.
We’ll watch the flowers color the day,
and people crowds the park,
appreciating the sun.
But I know I would be there,
Appreciating you.
But this is just my reverie,
Not even a memory.
‘Cause apparently time was not that friendly.
Perhaps, we’ll meet again.
One time, in another season.
Probably August will be kind.
And you, just like I, will once again try.
One day, under the summer sun.