Oh locks of ebony

piercing with eyes of night

and lips so formed of ruby red

how does my heart cry out to you, and yet

forbidden is the thought of you

your heart, your soul, not to be had

by one whose presence

is but acknowledged as a fact of life

to be tolerated to some extent

but woe to him who truly cares

never, never to succumb.

Were I but able to gaze into your eyes

and learn the secrets of your heart and mind

to fantom depths that are surely there

what then would become of us.

It is as though the answer I knew

and I believe that you do too

society, the mistress of our life

forbids that we ever so join

and learn the truth that deep within us lies.

Perhaps some day our eyes will meet

and without the use of a solitary word

our thoughts will merge and be as one

what joys that day will bring.

HERBERT HOLZBAUER

© February 1962