I was told by the lover you left poem by Simpa Omoluabi

XXIX

I was told by the lover you left

At foothills of a mountain, and bereft,

That when love was young and love was ashore

That this song took most on whistles you blew.

The last we saw was the evening of you,

Night encroaching your eyes forevermore.

You beside me, hand-in-hand in sunset,

I watched as your eyes drift away to dreams,

Twilight for now are lids light for my beams

Seeing how much with dawn could come regret.

By the altar made soggy the prophet

At his bloody duty quenches his taste

For violence, the grapes draining on the poet

And Winehouse says the deepest is the first.