I miss the days when we were young,
Love flowed like honey on our tongues,
Things were simple, life was free,
Hours as long as we wanted them to be.
I miss the good times and the bad,
The lovely years we never had,
Eternal springtimes decked with flowers,
Peace to while away the hours.
I miss the days of faerie-land,
You smiled as I took your hand,
Love kept us warm through bitter cold,
We clung to dreams of growing old.
I miss the endless whispered talks,
Summer days and garden walks,
Flowers bloomed as we strolled past,
I prayed to God these times would last.
I miss even our tragic fall,
Evening sweetness mixed with gall,
Falling leaves and autumn light,
Empty day and lonely night.
I miss above all you, my dear,
Your presence turning grey skies clear,
But love can end and dreams can die,
And so they did with you and I.
3 comments:
How haunting and delightful. Daniel, we should start some sort of writing correspondence. I mean, who knows? One of us might be the next Chesterton or Lewis. We might be doing the world a disservice not sharpening our whits against each other. I not sure what it would look like, exactly, but think it over and contact me somehow.
interesting how it seems to describe your life with a childhood sweetheart and yet. Yes, that is all.
It reads quite well.
How lovely. It's almost too neat for a poem and deserves to be a song.
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