I held you in my arms tonight:
Doors were opened–bells did ring;
You debated, poised for flight,
And trembled like an angel’s wing.
Time may fleet or take it slow–
It matters less than aught to me;
Material things may come and go–
Let them!–I’ve a memory!
(Only that–and there it ends
Until rehearsal Saturday:
I am married–she’s a friend’s
Girl-friend. The scene–the Christmas Play!)
P.S.
What goes on when up’s the curtain
Ain’t for me, and that is certain!
by Ray Romine Saturday, November 25, 1944