On the desk beside my chair,
Pristinely pressed between the pages
Of a volume old and rare,
I keep a lock of auburn hair
That never ages.
When sunlight slips into the room,
Its leather cover sometimes flashes
Like budding dreams of bride and groom
A heart that failed outside the womb
Reduced to ashes.
© William Keller, 2014
I think the rhyme and rhythm here adds to the sense of love’s ebb and flow, and the changing of its tides. It lilts and sways the reader into a sense of time lost and time held, in memories and remembrances, even the pages of the book itself seeming to hold the story for all time.