You the source of my fascination
there dancing that Autumn in the hall.
Your red hair and pale complexion
relaxed, a bohemian look, almost a call.
Periodically my thoughts on you play;
you seemed to have a control of life
and all that it would give sway,
that elegant head of red flame and a way.
Pale skin and searching blue eyes
offering promise but telling lies.
Recently I heard you’d died, I knew you not
but I cried for a love I had, but had not.