Late Lover Poem by Roy Ballard

I love to walk with you alone
amid the colours of surprise,
by blooms the wind has wildly sown
when morning suns gets in your eyes

or with the children of the snows,
among the suits of parrot hues
dipped in the draughts that dye the rose
with any tint it cares to choose.

When sun-frost stars the snowy drift
and cotton buds are in the trees
time seems forever yet it's swift
and only has itself to please.

Like carriage horses down the Mall
that toss their tails on festive days,
we go together well but shall
be made to go our separate ways.