There is a story not been told
inside a locket of pure gold,
Of lovers whose heart's were
entwined
With thoughts that knit both soul
and mind.
They feasted each on Eden's fruit
While angels watched but stood by
mute.
But soon a serpent in the dust
Caused their love to wane and rust.
They both agree that they should
part,
But pain lingered long in a young
girl's heart,
And even though she found another,
He seemed no more to her than
brother.
For at her death the locket she wore,
Inside the image of her first love
bore.
One wonders how her life would
have changed,
If love's first course had not been in
vain.