Fate's Discards
Fireflies flicker like falling stars
that hover in a garden thick
with memories of times we spent
beneath a smiling moon.
Oak leaves gently ride the breeze
that softly blows its tender breath
and quickly dries the tears that fall
from sad and misty eyes.
Ghostly sounds of whistles blast
from ships now far away from shore,
their clearly outlined silhouettes
dark against the moonlit sky.
Thoughts congeal, a cold, hard mass
obstructs sweet memories of the past,
replacing them with vivid visions
of our last goodbye.
Eerie calls from gulls above
now echo cries within my heart,
its shallow beating reminiscent
of the pulse of time.
All too soon our love affair
became a part of fate's discards,
forgotten vows now languishing
beneath a distant moon.
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