Lo, my heart does so often regale
My love, my life, my pilgrim’s tale
As days and weeks hurriedly fly by
Truant memories do often belie.
The silent whispers of my pretty lass
Enchantingly holding my heart in a thrall
Her ravishing beauty remains deeply etched
Her wanton ways lingering, though stretched
Life winged past at a reckless pace
Racing down Time’s endless space
At speeds, which were to me, a bit too rapid
To soak Life’s moments, both frosty and tepid
As life now slows its hurried gait
Body and spirit do steadily abate
Swirling memories of random joys
Seem like a few of my broken toys.
Pledges and promises seem hard to keep
As I’m silently drawn into a slumber deep
Frames and dreams entrancingly dwell
In burrows and furrows in a foreign realm.
As in faith, I draw nearer the Holy Grail
My faltering steps, do my resolve fail
With Stinging memories of teasing joys
I blissfully strut ahead of my broken toys.