Upon the misty heights I roam
And wonder, as I wander lone
For she who mystifies my dawn
And listens as I muse along
Is nearer still, as lone I walk –
I speak in silence from the heart
Of days gone by when we were young
And knew our moment in the sun
Was brighter then than it would be,
For even then we knew, could see
That time and distance would parlay
And deeper still for us portray
The breathless passion that we knew,
Which sprang from wells from which we drew,
Not knowing when the moment came
How we would never be the same –
And now I never walk alone
For deep with her in thought I roam
And still recall with vivid sight
And memory untinged by night
The flame we burned with passion bright
When lone I roamed on misty heights
Categories:
untinged, memory,
Form: Couplet
common,
so trifling
slight
untinged
in awe
of the array
before
me:
without
effort,
a process
to gratify
to tend
and preserve,
an
interval
akin
to
emtions...
swiftly,
before it
withers...
reach
for a pen
Categories:
untinged, words,
Form: Verse