Loves lost anew

To know the way and yet be blocked
From heights where even fey not trod
To depths below the vast of sea
And corners dull with age agree.

Thus onward press the love in time
To hear with tender verse or rhyme
Her chest a snowy softness new
And wings that gold be jealous too.

Why is she daft to make a stride
On hoofs of amber, legs to ride
Yet forward till the ides of time
Break down the wayward youth and prime.

The mind not clear nor thoughts renew
This age old test of sullied youth
She is the maiden fair of form
And ponders his such manly form.

She thinks of wonder and of pride
That ended love so dear astride
She prances on with lowly hide
To sing the sonnet beware inside.

But soon the old and rusty pitch
Will form and take her neath the ditch
To depths below and songs of old
Shall quiet her deep longing throat.