By Anton Von Stefan
September 29th, 1986
Copyright withheld
All rights reserved
Part 1 of a trilogy of peoms about a magic engagement ring. ‘The Ring for Monica S.’
Two lovers set a date; one goes to a Public House called Bridges, while the girl, naturally, goes to the fine restaurant of the same name just up stairs. Both come early as each is eager for the other. As with any good heart-breaking love story and drama (opera), that significant 'other' never shows up, yet they were but a few meters apart all night long. Each goes home thinking they had been 'stood up'. The moment had passed, and the time for a possilbe engagement was lost forever. The ring having its existance questioned, uses it magic and replies to its heart-broken owner.
A TIME; AN INSTANT; AN ETERNITY.
Wherefore dost thou exist,
Thou slender sliver of gleaming gold,
Who's ruby once set shines forth such a brilliant and glorious, glow?
Wherefore indeed thine existence?
Which heartless lover lay thee thus?
Which callous being cut short thy reign?
Which thief took that glorious moment and left thee as a virgin, raped?
Wherefore thine existence be,
Now that that moment passed?
Oh, how dear to me thou once wast.
Oh, how precious and full of life.
Oh, how full of hope was I filled as tenderly I held thee, so near.
Oh wherefore sits thou with heavy heart,
Thou chivalrous soul who's now so cold,
Who's respect for humanity brought many a friend from the tender, sex?
Oh wherefore indeed thine heavy heart?
How many memorable times canst thou recount?
How many a woman's heart hast thou ment?
How many thankful smiling faces hast thine understanding, produced?
Oh wherefore thine heart so heavy,
Now that that time indeed hast passed?
Oh how dear that moment would have been?
Those words, once spoken, would have given me life.
From that moment forth I'd have been a symbol of thine true love, it's passed
Wherefore dost thou exist?
It was fate that two hearts so near did not meet.
Wherefore indeed thine existence?
Be she ever so dear, so righteous, so truly beautiful, twas not meant to be.
Wherefore thine existence be?
Oh discard thine heavy heart; Thou still hast her friendship;
I, I alas lay here fingerless.
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