He wandered softly through his life,
Amidst their lives so torn with strife.
Untouched by life's unstinting hell,
Or so it seemed, he hid it well.
But upon the Lady he did glance,
Was it good fate, or happenstance?
A gentle soul, this lady fair.
Soft curls of silken auburn hair.
Eyes aglitter, blue diamonds fire,
A cloak to hide her strong desire.
So haunted, sad, and prone to weep,
She took his heart, t'was hers to keep.
He showed her things he'd kept inside,
Then watched the tears come as she cried.
T'was not his wish to cause her pain,
And felt he'd never write again.
Until her smile lit up his day,
Her laughter driving cares away.
A question posed, wry comments bidden,
An answer lurks, so deeply hidden
So Lady, will he get the girl,
She with silken auburn curl?
For she alone provides the key,
Fair Lady, what will thine answer be?
Rusty Algren
*Poem "This Lady Fair" by Rusty Algren © 2003, all rights reserved*