Wednesday, February 3, 2010


She hears the distant echo of his laughter ‘cross the meadow
His voice so low and mellow like a whisper in the shadows
And out across the snowy plains the phantom memories dance
She knows she would go back again if she had the chance

Upon the fields now glazed with snow she sees the ever-green
A carpet flushed with daisies and the glow of girl-hood dreams
And there within his gentle arms the tender bud of youth
Unravels slightly ‘neath the charms of laughter, love and truth

But fate would choose a different path and there the tender rose
Wept petals where they used to laugh in lover’s sweet repose
And as the winds of winter sweep the cold and barren plain
In secret moments still she weeps for what once could have been

The arbor in her garden blooms with flowers sweet and rare
But sometimes midst their sweet perfume and on the still night air
The melody of their love song drifts softly ‘cross her mind
As she re-visits now and then a chapter left behind

All Rights Reserved
Janet Martin

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