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.
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