When you come to me, unbidden,
Beckoning me
To long-ago rooms,
Where memories lie.
Offering me, as to a child, an attic,
Gatherings of days too few.
Baubles of stolen kisses.
Trinkets of borrowed loves.
Trunks of secret words,
I cry.
- Lost Love Poem
by Maya Angelou
My great hope is to laugh
as much as I cry; to get
my work done and try to love
somebody and have the courage
to accept the love in return.
- Maya Angelou
ROMANTIC
