Looking back with love

Looking back with love and longing

The walls of the Grand Serail look the same,

as when I was young,

and love was new, as

we played the livelong day.

Hope was ever present,

like the smiles upon our lips,

and for the morrow, we

let it take care of it.

But now I’m six and twenty,

and experience I have bought,

but I knew not then, the endings

of these things, that I now know

I recall her smile, her eyes

the way they shone,

and long for her touch,

in the years long gone.

In the gardens where we played,

the fountains tinkle still,

And the birds sing,

but I no longer shall.

It is said the caged bird sings not,

yet I am no longer caged,

but the memory pains,

as the hours pleased.

I scrape my quill, dip in the ink,

and recall those tender times,

but Empires call, and tender love

upon the vine must languish.

But here, now, the taste

of those lost times

haunts me

and tears flow.

Here it was they told me

that you were dead, and brought me

bitter news to hear, and bitter

tears to shed.

Death he taketh all away

but my memories he cannot take.