Near the Wishing Well

Near the wishing well, our hands entwined;
Where stand we to see the direction of our lives.

Frustrated and angry with all that we have tried;
I’m tired and dying, hoping to be revived.

A copper coin from me to you, to give to the well
To pay its due.
My hopes I toss in too,
Oh please! Please, make these dreams come true!

Beneath the calm and glassy pool, an army of hopes and dreams lies still;
Lulled to sleep in waters cool, entrapped within a frigid chill.
Cast in ages past and long ago by others in righteous act;
By lovers and dreamers or so, like brothers of a secret pact.

With bated breath and fragile heart, I’m anxious for your toss.
Each moment casts a fiery dart, and this wait becomes a cross.

I wonder if your wish will be as mine.
Will our hearts merge to form a single line?
Or, and I dread the thought,
Will you commit a crime?
Will your soul be bought; will your cast be far from mine?

Of your choice I have no assurance.
Of mine, I’ve known forever.
I have loved you without insurance, and I will love you ever.

And as that golden hope floats from fragile fingers,
Toward the awaiting ocean of whispered prayers,
I know that in its sweeping, graceful arch there lingers
Abounding joy eternal, or torturous, painful cares.

Here near the wishing well, our hands entwined;
Where stand we to see the direction of our lives.

Author: Chris Samuel

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 There is a long road ahead
 Near the Wishing Well
 Long to know you more
 Long for a happy end
 It's all gone