The beginning of some poem

I either got bored or had too much work, and now I don’t remember what I wanted to do with it, but I think it would’ve taken a turn at some point, maybe because I was bitter or something.
I know that you recall those flighty weeks
When chivalrous men did childish deeds
On impetuous steeds to call your heed
When the stars and galaxies
Shone brightly and gleamed
To catch a reflection of your radiant beams

It’s been a very long time, and it really means nothing now

Still, I hope she doesn’t see this. I don’t know why I dredged this up, just to do it a disservice. Maybe it’s a reminder that I used to love at some point, and maybe it will happen again.

I know in some other world we did not fade, and
I still sometimes look back and think “Jenny kissed me!”
An eon has passed since those fateful days.
Rent from this fragile body,
My heart, ward of so much misery,
Eternally feared how it might break again.
So now my fortress is razed and bridges bombed:
Absence sometimes makes the heart grow up.
Outside, I now see the blue sky, the singing robins.
Little bits of truth are all that remain.
So I forced myself to move, move on,
Looking for some other strand of desperate beauty.
One day, I will finally think myself worthy.
Your scent remains a lingering memory,
Resonating and fading like an ocean wave.
A decade later it doesn’t seem so bad, I suppose.
Really, there are no more tears to cry again.
May the world open to you like a springtime rose.
You are not my Algernon, nor I your Dobbin.

A poem I wish I wrote

“Monorhyme for the Shower” by Dick Davis

Lifting her arms to soap her hair
Her pretty breasts respond – and there
The movement of that buoyant pair
Is like a spell to make me swear
Twenty odd years have turned to air;
Now she’s the girl I didn’t dare
Approach, ask out, much less declare
My love to, mired in young despair.

Childbearing, rows, domestic care –
All the prosaic wear and tear
That constitute the life we share –
Slip from her beautiful and bare
Bright body as, made half aware
Of my quick, surreptitious stare,
She wrings the water from her hair
And turning smiles to see me there.