Our Goblet
Our goblet
We shall lay no longer in silent rest
Though whispered words, good-by;
As winter in its dark repose
Waits…
Till we drink our goblet dry
Still gaze with eyes that often see
And brush back your hair of gold,
For here wait all illusions held
When emotions hurry by
Now gone this day to twilight
Then after that to dark,
As recollections from our memories wait
Till we drink our goblet dry
By m.n.
marklnorton@shaw.ca
Copyright © Mark Norton | Year Posted 2011
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