Here’s that poem I promised you inspired by Anne Elliot from Persuasion:

Is it because she loved so deep?

Her love lying dormant and asleep;

Is it the years betwixt their sighting

That has born delusions alighting?

What would happen to the pair of them?

Alas, no pair in sight for hope has dimmed.

The fire that burned years hence

Dwindled to a kindle and lost all sense.

Oh! How that flame did burn so long ago;

And not so long, it seems, to forego

The dream, the fairytale scene;

But, no, not to be, inappropriate deemed.

Fairness, yes, unfortunately;

Moral obligation not taken lightly.

And yet the heart will do as it pleases;

It will weep, mourn and grieve until it releases.

The fire inside will diminish, in time;

Dear Lord, she begs, please hasten mine.

She bears it daily, hidden in her secret vault;

The pain is hers, and she alone is at fault. 

There are many secrets in a woman’s heart;

Buried, for safekeeping, if she’s smart.

Secrets, the solace of unrequited love

Like ashes, take flight on the wings of a dove.