The Choice

Walking down the lane,

I could see thy silhouette in the evening sun,

Like a picture frame,

Making out just outlines I stop,

Trying to distinguish between them,

But alas! For me the sinking sun still holds fire,

I see you waving, clapping,

As you urge me on,

“Don’t just walk, run, dear”,

I come across a fork,

One path going straight and one going left,

If I took the other one I shall lose sight of you much earlier,

Than I would like,

That’s why I took the straight one.