Beckoning, questioning,
Along paths of sand laden,
Laid the days of reckoning -
For Love's ocean horizon.

Those Summer hills beckon again,
For the man lost in Time -
In the meadows of eternity,
Distraught in Sorrow sublime.

The days of glorious chore,
Fall dead to the rays of their light -
And wash upon a ****** shore,
Next to the broken shadows of the night.