when we were to fear winds,
like autumn leaves,
when we were to elope,
in our hidden dreams,
when we were to awaken,
together in chilled nights,
and cry with sore eyes,
with broken hopes,
and straying in swamps of dismay,
with orchis hearts,
and we were to paint,
our love hillock gaily,
with our green visions,
it was spade of mine,
and a dream of yours,
and now how strange it is,
that you dont know me.

Rafique Farooqi

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/how-strange-it-is/