I remember the days,
of drawing hearts in soft warm shifting sands,

As it is running through my fingertips,
as slips through aging hands,

I see the vision once,
& it's all so very grand.

Still,
a tiny speck,
is a tiny piece of very lovely land,
& to sail away,
a ship can't sail all alone,
off to go,
unmanned,

And a castle without a prince,
was not quite what I'd planned,

Sadly,
I now realize it was all just,
an illusion,
anyway.

Cherie Nolan © 2016