My love she lies in amber,
preserved perfect for all time.
From mortar of golden summer memory
I built an awe-inspiring amber shrine.

Yet my love, they’re lies in amber.
For perfection is never true.
And her awe-inspiring amber
appears to have a rose-tinted hue.

I suspect she stored me in amber,
as some summer lovers are wont to do.
As a tanned, toned teen of yesteryear
whose sweet smiles stripped back the blue.

Can I compete with amber,
with that vision from a time gone by?
I do not know – I can only hope
and hope someday to try.

We’ll make new sunny memories
large enough to dwarf those stored before.
Tear back each layer of old amber
till I have to leave, then build some more.

I long someday to stay with her.
Sadly for now that cannot be
but we’ll always have our summer
and that amber memory.

Copyright © 2015 Philip Craddock. All rights reserved.

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