Hear the Roar

H ow do memories retain the brilliancy of star’s vanes? A nother time another place, would memories have such grace? P erhaps, it’s simply distance, that works this mystery this mischance. P oor substitute for touch this distance metaphoric rush. Y oungsters apple cheeked blush, Gran’s lovingly shush. N otice only the brightest twinkle in a baby eye or a mother’s guise. E very fused image stays crisp and lovely for all days. W orry need not intrude on the sentinels of solitude. Y our heart’s delight will outshine any simple test of time. E ndlessly remaining new, bright, young and warm. A rriving at the end of even nights most darkened morn. R oaring with star fire and flame ‘till all who’ve lived….live again.