Love And Wine

How can I forget her, eyes green as spring water cascading down a mountain side in Norway. Her skin silky as a morning cloud in June and her laughter was like chuckling pearls of joyfulness. So much festivities, wine and song, it took time before I noticed anything was wrong. Rages; tears of melancholy, lover of the night I became a spectator to a slow downfall. Eddy of too much living I could not go there I had my own demons to battle. How rapid her fall, a woman every man could have and I cursed my eternal cowardice. At her funeral I spoke to her mother we cried for a beautiful woman we both loved, but were not able to safe.