The Hat Trick

Oh, that I could feel your breath

upon my brow and then,

the quickened pulse, the supple passion

from whence our love began.

How I envy when others woo

lost, though I’ve known it too

brings me to this place of sorrow;

bereft, if complete and true.

Perhaps if we’d known less ardor

I would not miss it now;

there’d be no angst for tomorrow

since desire has run afoul.

Aching for love we knew had been

but the magic seems all but flat,

I would dance should I ever see that hare again

popping out of your silk top hat!

S Lynn Knight 2016