The First Time
The picture is of the ferry in which we crossed the river, which was the Thames. The soundtrack is a recording of myself reading the poem.
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I was only seventeen, and you were about the same,
and I knew nothing about you – I barely knew your name.
But I looked at you, and you looked at me, and we looked at each other, and then…
I knew, the first time you smiled at me, I wanted to see you again.
So I went where I knew I could find you, and asked you to go on a date,
and you looked quite shy, but you said you would, and I knew it must be fate.
And I looked at you, and you looked at me, and we looked at each other, and then…
I knew, the first time I held your hand, I wanted to hold you again.
We were crossing the river. The sky was grey, but the sun came bursting through,
and lit up your hair like a coppery flame, and I couldn’t stop looking at you.
Yes, I looked at you, and you looked at me, and we looked at each other, and then…
I knew, the first time I stroked your hair, I wanted to touch you again.
Then we walked in the park and sat on a bench (I still see it all so clear),
and my arm was round your shoulder, and your face was oh, so near.
And I looked at you, and you looked at me, and we looked at each other, and then…
I knew, the first time I kissed you, I wanted to kiss you again.
You were everything I wanted – well, that’s the way it seemed –
everything I wanted and all that I’d ever dreamed.
For we met again, and I held you again, and we kissed again and again,
and I’d never known a feeling like the happiness I felt then.
But life doesn’t stay that perfect, and dreams don‘t always come true,
and there came the day that you told me you had found somebody new.
And I looked at you, and you looked at me, and we looked at each other, and then…
I knew, the one time you broke my heart, I could never be happy again.
But, though young hearts are easily broken, it’s surprising how soon they can mend.
So after you there were other girls, and now I have more than a friend.
But I still think of you with affection (even if it is just now and then),
for the one you remember as first love is never forgotten again.
This is such a beautiful memory, thanks for sharing
I love your repetitive phrasing with its little changes each time. Very sincere and chaste. I loved it.
A gently penned, whimsical and essentially optimistic poem written with skill and without pretension. Your have a great poetic ear. Love, Allie ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥
I love this poem - it's lyrical, wistful, beautiful and special. :)
Such a lovely poem...did you ever send it or were you a closet writer as that teen? Beautiful in its innocent passion....! Dorothy A Poet Who Loves To Sing
So touching. Pure and sincere and full of innocence. Like first love should be!