…your beloved face

This brief existence, this interlude, at times it passes so slowly
like the drifting clouds across a summer sky
or the fire of autumn leaves that lingers for an age
yet on reflection, my memories of you, an eternity in the making
seem less than moment, stolen from the fleeing winds of time
but in my dreams my wishes rise upon the waves of sleep
the sweet scent of jasmine, the rose light of morning
a shoreless ocean, I am taken back with the tide
to where time and distance are erased
and I see your face, your beloved face, as I used to know it
your eyes, deep liquid sapphire pools, in which I long to float
I feel the warmth of your gaze, chasing out the shadows
and the aching loneliness running like a river from my weeping soul
© Ann Bagnall
2012