Never Waste A Moment (to tell her)
A room, stilled in silent contrition, steeped in repentance.
Freshly dressed Roses at tables end.
Flowers die too; he confesses!
No more will he discern her voice
nor caress the gentle source of her existence.
Slumbered back against the cathedra he
decries the mellow cherub of the cardinal
perched aside his window.
A message?
As he dreams a tormented reflection of his past,
a tear pearls gently down as memories play
Silently in his pain.
He repines only now that; " if only he had been a better man". Hoping in chance that she may forgive.
Cease this pain to not sustain beyond his wish for a moments exchange!
His dream delayed. For his bride of many a year appears, waking him from his mare. In somber refrain he delights. Its you my love!
Never waste a moment to tell her.
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