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
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