…of grace

Our songs already sung, still linger in my dreams
their haunting melodies still calling to me, persistent and patient
for our souls are entwined, as roses to their thorns
time is drifting away on an endlessly ebbing tide
our hearts now heavy with the sudden weight of our new reality
where the whispers of hope
are fading into memory and echoing like pain
the days are vanishing, now but fleeting reflections
and in my melancholy I am still longing for the fragile fragrance
and the trembling tones of the season of sighs
aching for your touch and to see myself reflected in your eyes
lost in the moment in my peripheral vision
I see your familiar shadow appear and disappear
and your distant heart is calling again from the sobbing darkness
an intimate glimpse a moment of grace
as the flowers of love continue blooming
© Ann Bagnall