Although our love is over, it
remains
An unfrequented garden in my heart,
Its beauty quite inseparable from pain,
A wilderness where once was willful art. I hope a little piece of you is
still
Reserved for me, a place you may not go,
But where my room, untenanted, can fill
A moment with my music, sweet and slow. There are no wishes like a former
lover's
That from the dark, repentant night must shine.
And so though we have both moved on to others,
I send you from afar this Valentine. Copyright by Nicholas Gordon
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