Of Poems, Memories and Trouble

Great beauty in short verse does lie,
The glorious memories it washes ashore,
Of holding hands for the first time and others,long before.

That evening comes alive again, those feelings rush back in,
This time,only stronger, I know now what goes within.
I feel your grip tighten as I read these lines,
And more memories collect, of us walking together through these last times.

My soul to the devil I have bared, my heart to the devil I have sold,
Obviously with it came Trouble, but my hand he promises to hold.

"Here's mine," say I, "with my heart in it."

This is in reply to the poem "The Thin Line between Friendship and Love" posted by Trouble Waters..thought it was too long to leave as a comment.

Now I'm all gooey and misty-eyed and sighing..something I don't like to be when he's not around..a pox on your throat, Trouble.

P.S. Guess the reference in the last line of both, the poem and the post. Hint..they are the same.