I Always Return To You
Grieving, I shall rue the day when atop the hill I stand,
alone with my memories, grasses swaying in the breeze.
Tears on my cheeks, he'd once so tenderly caressed.
A groan will escape my lips and I will fall to my knees,
wistful, yet blessed for I'd held his love within my breast.
Days to follow shall be visited with shadows and grief,
the only smile 'pon my lips will come with thoughts of him.
Too brief the moments when they'll linger and grant respite,
for when our candle flame sputters, my world will be dim.
Then, I'll beg the moon to help me through each lonely night.
Lambent light to my eyes, each time he entered my door.
We had a love unlike any ever kindled inside me before.
We ran through tall blades of grass on that verdant hill,
hand in hand, laughing like children, teasing and taunting.
Every word he'd ever spoken, I will hear in his haunting.
I'll hold one line sacred in mind, recalling when he wrote,
"I always return to you," and thus, his love was bared.
If that he could, I have no doubt indeed he would
and find me waiting atop the trysting hill we shared,
yearning for one more day, pleading for one more hour
to lie beside him, savoring our splendor in the grass.
There was innocence in our budding
Revelation in our days of blossoming
Jubilation in our weeks of blooming
Mourning on the day of our withering
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