Sometimes it plays upon my heart like the strain of a violin
And though it’s tearing me apart I beg to hear it again
I let its sorrow linger like a kiss upon my pain
As you run your fingers through my memory again
I feel the tender passion of the music as it plays
I hear the breakers crashing on a sea-shore far away
I let its sonnet linger as it sets my spirit free
I reach to touch the fingers running through my memory
As the chorus fades away like waves return to sea
As the turquoise turns to gray and touch to memory
As the silence of the present drowns out its melody
I reach to clasp your fingers running through my memory
All Rights Reserved
Janet Martin
J.
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