Since she won’t be won, I’ll win the world.

And when the world understands me,

It will be okay that she has banned me,

This woman, pretty and silly like a girl

Who I loved. If the crowds shout, hurray!

Will it hurt me, that as I hear their cheers,

She, in her loneliness, haughtily turns away?

She never gets what she wants, and her tears

Do not come easily, for she accepts

That her world has everything that’s wrong.

Oh God, how I loved her! But gradually, by unseen steps,

I realized she was bad for me, and my song.

But love finds every reason to love and will love

The very thing reason says should not be loved.

When love and reason diverge in the wood,

The trees becomes lonelier and strange

As one watches reason, not looking back,

Stride through trees, and over the mountains, away.

Love will not hear of wrong. Love, as love, has no lack.

Though love lasted a moment, it will always be,

Faithful to gardens: green, in their green tranquility.

Tomorrow I’ll remember that I loved her today:

In my faith to infants, and faith, faith that all who are faithful will stay.




  1. maryangeladouglas said,

    December 8, 2015 at 2:41 pm

    love, as love has no lack is a worthy expression and the key that fits the poem at least, I read it that way and I love the faint breeze of hope that stirs through this poem based on that fact and the enobling, enobled form of the poem that sustains it. (and the greenery toward the close of the poem). I think it is a poem more about hope than as it first appears, about fame- and hope that arrives when some distance is achieved from the person, place. or thing that wounded.

    • thomasbrady said,

      December 8, 2015 at 10:35 pm

      Thanks, Mary. I do consider it a hopeful poem—almost a Christmas poem, but I wasn’t thinking that as I wrote it…

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