In This A Somber Mist
I find the strength to move forward,
in the reminder of her beauty,
that which I could only grasp a real,
no longer any sweet fantasy.
I stand along a river edge in memory,
the sunlit banks of summer,
her hands in my hair, mine in her own,
we did know our surroundings.
In the wonder of time, my life an event,
now the curtains close and dust
begins to settle around the swept wood
where our dance would stir the world.
I, in fond retrospect, hold only one regret
when to imagine the elegance of love,
one could only hold on to dreams alone,
just nostalgic recall of her delight.
While every motion, each autumn stood near
we did a spectacular journey appreciate,
the hands of care , the eyes of certain demand.
Those were the minutes of our time.
Would love ever allow our reality to swoon,
in the shadow of a neighbor, a friend, child
we gathered strength to know the cause,
when time did finally spell our lives to part.
Oh to know the essence of what is this value love,
when pain and sickness do in place of real command.