…of lost dreams

Memories drift, soft and whispering
like the fragrant mists of lost dreams
endlessly circling in emptiness
they gather and twirl to music I cannot hear
in faraway gardens filled with flowers
whose ghostly faces I cannot see
you stirred the oceans and painted the moon
you were the storm and the soft light of dawn
our song forever etched upon the canvas of my soul
I was drowning in the waves and alone under the stars
I was the echo of silence and the long hours of night
lost in the haunting melody that broke my fragile heart
now in the dark mirror I face my hungry shadows
the embers burning in the darkness
now slowly extinguished
by the cold dew of reality
© Ann Bagnall