The Start

He was lost
Without knowing
He was alone
Without showing
He knew of future plans
Without ever going.

By the world’s hands
How bored he had grown

His dreary was matched,
By a feminine offer,
Of a woman made
From the finest scratch.

How little he knew
Of the woman in front
She was, their time was
The seed that grew
Bringing the hunt.

Their map was drawn,
But he still couldn’t see
What he would come upon.
But by god he could see
His huntress
Her loveliness

She talked,
And he gazed
She walked
And he was amazed.
She had eyes of hazel,
Looking away, he was unable

The Duchess of Enchanted Hills
His muse of thrills
How he crazed
How he prayed
By those hazel eyes
His cosmic, yet earthly demise.

Where they were going,
He wasn’t sure.
What they were doing,
Would last forever.

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