Old Loves

Many the people I have known a few who were once loved with hot passion, most insubstantial shadows lost in time a few remembered well and most fondly. As for me, am I remembered too? If so, with fondness left lingering? or by other less salubrious thoughts? Where did they end up these ghosts of mine? Some, just a brief fling, then on to pastures not always any greener with the same every day strife's that tear and weaken the fabric. Love always arrives most joyously fanfare heralds it in the door Yet just as fast it flees in the dark Leaving the remnants behind to pick over To truly love is a perfect gift granted only to a precious few empowering them as it laps over them so I say to long ago loves, Be Happy