“Sold”! he said, as I nodded my head,

I was last to bid on the tome.

I smiled, then took the age old book

and carted it back to my home.


I began to read, it began to plead,

to tell of a time long ago,

when a sweet young girl with an auburn curl

Gave herself to a heart so cold.


He was just a lad, already a cad,

who cared not for a lass’ heart.

All he wished was a stolen kiss

and the nectar only once to part.


He took all of her, was a shameless cur,

then bragged to his friends at the Inn.

To her it was golden, this gift he had stolen,

with him now gone, her gift was her sin.


Was it surreal? This love she did feel,

or had she been fooled from the start?

Were all the words lies, meant to steal her prize?

when all he wanted, she thought was her heart.


I laid down the book and took a new look

at my life from a different perception.

I need to care much for each life I touch,

knowing my actions leave a lasting impression.



John 1998



Copyright © 2017 John H Dumke