The Promise


Image credit: Irina Alexadrovna/

He made the promise to you
One perfect springtime morn
His words they were so precious
So much to wish upon
How could you know by summer
That he’d be gone?

Your dress it was so pretty
He said beyond compare
And all the flowers circled
In your wondrous hair
How could you know by summer
He’d not be there?

Such promises are sweet
They take your breath away
His earnest loving words
He’d never go away
How could you know by summer
He would stray?

So young girl take this warning
Turn not your pretty eyes
To look upon a lover
As something like a prize
Lest you find in summer
He only ever lies

(c ) Helen Valentina 2018

About helenvalentina

Like most people, I have a number of sides to me. The most interesting one probably emerges through my writing, hence this blog. I love to read, and also to write, and so this is a way to share both.
This entry was posted in Fire, Poetry and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

4 Responses to The Promise

  1. A very fair warning

  2. ksbeth says:

    ooh, good to consider and great poem

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