In Your Eyes Plain Writ Poem by Adrian Flett

I have stood with Wordsworth and I have heard
that still sad music of humanity.
It is the hope that human thought, shared
with men gives to us, and therefore an audacity
not sad, unless you think so few attend
or even hear a word.For us there's no choice,
no life in diversions, most pretend
use substitutes.The brave know and rejoice
still turn to face what is to come, you do
it is in your eyes plain writ, I see it,
in your voice still echoing through
from so long ago, when first we met.
Does your first happy greeting long ago
mean you saw these things in me? Only you know.