…a quiet yearning

Whispered sighs on gentle breezes
a soft brush across your cheek
slipping away in the darkness

a quiet yearning echoes
across the velvet night
slow burning it dies like a flame

too late, the truth reveals itself
only a touch, and we knew
a mirror of ourselves

the music of rivers sings sadly
and drifts through the hourglass
of endless time

dreams uncounted
a single lonely voice
but we are only watching

through the passing of the years
bearing a longing for a meeting of souls
and a blending of hearts

then slowly, melting away

© Ann Bagnall