Turning the pages of memory’s book,
I recall those moments that could not last,
Long shrouded within the fog of the past;
I wonder: what would I find should I look?
A word aptly spoken or careless thought?
Time well-spent and valued or thrown away?
Surrounded by love or abandoned one day?
My heart well-guarded or easily bought?
Then with a smile you stroll into my dreams,
Happily linger till sun rays turn gold,
And, when the moon rises, release your hold –
To drift away ghostlike on dawn’s bright beams.
I wake… in the silence, recall when we met –
and walk in the garden of love and regret.
Dappled-Things 