...and of all of life the most enduring
Is that I dared not love but could have
Loved had I seized the passing time.
Yet there is this Love has it's seasons.
The Spring that promises it's sweetest
Treasure is to come; Summer the bud
In bloom; Autumn when the harvest
Is Gathered while the rose and golden
Leaves flutter down; Winter the end
Time come with it's simple hope pure
As snow that another time will come
In sleep, a dream of all born again in
Innocence to love in the coming of the
Light; our youth still more glorious
We will wake up in our dreams and
Be fearless in our love then for that
Better time to come I will regret not
The Sweet sorrows of these partings
For without such there would be no
Youth nor any youth to return to.



For My Mother who would have me remember old blue eyes
His and hers and mine