Late Nights
My mind wanders to the nights
when we heard the crickets
sing
on the hill we claimed as ours.
Tiring days made sweet
by the touch of two struggling
lovers hopelessly lost in
search for the eternal.
We marveled at the universe,
to places not yet traveled,
to dreams locked in the stars.
Nightly departures brought
heartache
but a promise of return.
Our arms extended, my hand
interlocked with yours like the
roots of
an ancient sycamore tree on
familiar earth.
And I will never let go.
Copyright © Bob Jones | Year Posted 2014
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