The Gates of Innocence ©
Down St John Street one night we walked, in moonlight charged with youth,
My arm around you, yours round me, in love as deep as truth.
That night I saw the eternal sign and wish now I had known,
Like a leaf upon the autumn breeze my heart was not my own.
Oh the road to winning you was fraught, with quicksands all the way.
I wrote you letters drenched in hope, I wooed you night and day,
For the pressing of your hand so soft, or the gaze of eyes so blue,
In the steep green fields at Clachanmore when I worked next to you.
But the moon and love didn't quite foresee that I would wriggle free,
Against my heart and against my will, somewhat regretfully.
For the roads we walked were soon to part to sever us for ill,
To leave the Crescent we once walked, to ghosts that haunt me still.
The thoughts that circle round me now, strengthen with the night.
As if the years have fallen to young love's breathless might,
When your eyes beguiled the doubting stars, and left me void of sense,
Before the moments we fell through the gates of innocence.
Now the moonlight shines less brightly on the lonely fields we cleared,
And St John Street isn't quite as sweet as when I held you dear.
But the friends we walked with on that night still walk together yet.
And the full moon's promise holds as true, as when you and I last met.