Passion Spent

Passion Spent Into oh the quiet twilights strays Then creeps like a soundless youth from day, Until the moon and its bright reflections With time did ever change And the river sounds an eternal flow In this place where our belief is unknown, Like an image in thy memories sight For which we are left to wonder why Yet this moment exceeds ones broken heart As we all too silently wait, While outside beneath the evenings moon The faintest breeze blows by We often think, what may have been When this in our memory is kept, Beneath all that’s dreamt of soft lament And the thought before we wake Farewell the bound that limits life When this passionless night retires, To bid us gaze into the dawn And behold our dreams expire By M.Norton marklnorton@shaw.ca