There are moments in time
When the sun pauses, to bid farewell,
On perfect midsummer nights,
As cool hawthorn begs me to stay,
For just a while longer, and you.
Months and years will pass,
And all shall return to me;
Memories – pollen scented,
Of a time when the stars were clear,
But the future was not.
Lost then within me is a story,
That I alone will ever know,
Yet one that others shall unwillingly read,
For in my eyes,
You were the dream that almost was,
And whose life is slow to fade.
