In Love With The Drink

I remember her clear blue eyes;
Her hair sleek, raven black.
I remember her laugh, a tinkle of bells,
As we danced the night away.
I remember when we walked, joyous,
As if on moonbeams along the river hand in hand.
That was before she fell in love with the drink,
And out of love with me.

poem by Paul Brookes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!