I met her in the Temple of the Moon
On some enchanted isle Southwest of Crete,
Both Siren and a goddess, not discreet,
She said she’d grant to me one wish, a boon.
At midnight when the stars hung in festoon,
We kissed far from the nearest road or street,
She was so lovely, feral, tart and sweet,
Down by the bay, beside a cold lagoon.
My wish was that my love for her might last,
She smiled and cooed “it’s done, my senseless boy!”
It’s sixty years and I look to the Past,
Not Space nor Time could my strong love destroy.
Alas, her spell was cold. Her love she kept,
Now all these years and nights, alone, I’ve wept.