Friday, January 24, 2014

Day 22 of 365 (Further Appreciation of John Williams)

John Williams was a pretty good poet too. 

 Ode to the Only Girl 

 I've seen you many times in many places-- 
Theater, bus, train, or on the street; Smiling in spring rain, in winter sleet, Eyes of any hue in myriad faces; 
Midnight black, all shades of brown your hair, Long, short, bronze or honey-fair. Instantly have I loved, have never spoken; Slowly a truck passed, a light changed, 
A door closed--all seemingly pre-arranged-- 
Then you were gone forever, the spell was broken.
 Ubiquitous only one, we've met before A hundred times, and we'll meet again.
As many more; in hills or forest glen, 
On crowded street or lonely, peaceful shore; 
Somewhere, someday--but how will we ever know 
True love, how will we ever know? 

 John Williams

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