My heart is a pathway to the past
where all that is hidden
if sought, might come to light
like the dawn flowing softly in
on a curtain of mist
in the cobwebbed corners of memory
every thought my own to choose
I stand watching
the ever-wearying rain
waves crash onto the shore
again and again
rolling a pebble in my hand
in some past life
I loved your name
and now, syllable by syllable
I strive, its sweetness to regain
© Ann Bagnall
Annie's Poetry 