To tell the story of a life Takes many pages, many words; To tell the story of a love Takes every bit as long The you I saw in summer fields Beneath an endless weightless sky The you I felt in tenderness The softness of your skin, a sigh For now, when I remember you There is a novel in my mind; The beauty of your memory Is always young, and brave, and kind There's beauty in the world, I know, But I thought I had lost it then: You walked into the room, and I Became the mindfulest of men But this - this was not me at all This was all you, and love; it was A type of wakeful dreaming where I did not want to wake, because Your magic was in everything. If ever a man loved, I did: I cherished every moment, and I lay awake at night and bid The minutes slow their very march. To lengthen time, our time, so much As possible; to see your eyes To stroke your hair, to softly touch Your skin beneath your summer dress. To love you there with all my heart; Your words of warning in my ears That love is short and lovers part. A life, my life, what is it now? It's just a cold and fading fire A soon forgotten flickering Of what was once raging desire And all for you, my long true love - Who taught me wonder in the night, Whose hand I took to cross the bridge Of leaving off and doing right The day is closing in, and I Put down my pen, and rest a while - For now, when I remember you I shiver once, and lastly Smile
(“Now, When I Remember You” – 6-25-2015)