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I will always remember her, the memories will be good,
and of the place I met her, in the clearing by the wood,
where standing near purple flowers, on one soft summers day,
a golden haired beauty told me how she somehow lost her way.

Sharing my lunch of nuts and apples on my coat, where I made a space,
not staring but with averted eyes, I watched her eat with grace,
I calmed her with some poetry as color returned to her face,
now reassured we started walking as I guided at measured pace.

Walking her slowly toward her home, I listened as she spoke,
of all of her loving family and of all the village folk,
the words not fully followed, I freely admit to say,
it was her lovely lilting voice that I remember to this day.

Reaching the road to her home, she turned to me and when,
she laid her hand on mine, I felt the softness of her skin,
thanking me for my kindness, she smiled and left me then,
I watched her form fade in the distance never seeing her again.

For one to love another, from such a short and unlikely meet,
and for it to be unrequited, is indeed so bitter-sweet