XXIII

by Luis G. Dato

That you could thus forget so easily,
The day whose memory I made a shrine,
The smile you gave me cheeringly as wine
When a fair one pours it and tempts us try,
Holding with hand whose glow out-charms the gift,
And we doubt then which to the lips to lift,
The wine that sparkles or the hands that vie,
And the fair cup is emptied with a sigh.

Love came to visit me with dawn and goes
As falls with night the ne’er unfading rose;
And as love came you came, alas the day
When I beheld and loved you in life’s way!
A smile creeps o’er you of that day gone by,
At life’s twilight ’tis all my memory

Sarah Barrameda Balares

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