Memories

When all the moments have been lived, and all the days described When hope is an illusion, you chase in your dreams, and time a circle of black and white When faded pictures guard your mind from forgetting, will a seat be offered from a comforting hand? To warm your face, so it may smile And as you gather fallen leaves from your dreams, to build a fire to protect from winter's cold, will you sit by frosted windows, starring into luminous stars? Reliving a solemn rendering of your life When all my days are shorn in Autumn And all the years have shrived When lasting memories are fused, what deems Is an hourglass of time's remind Like faded photographs, safe vouch the mind Will I sit and proffer from a smile And such as you will I gather token dreams And build a fire, to keep from winter's bold Will I sit by mosic windows and turn them into stars Reliving a solemn promise, to make this slope, my wife A poem written by Mystic Rose; and Frederic Parker I thank her for her input and kindness