We bide our time upon the cusp
Twixt what may be and surely must
From evenings hush till morning hours
Begging chase through moon lit bowers
Where gleans the will in blissful trance
And leads the way in halting dance
To just beyond what grasp may reach
Where barely recalled memories teach
Tween what is now and might have been
To tease the eye with promised gleam
And silent whispers barely heard
That nary leash the fleeting word
But call to mind the long lost plight
That dreams and hopes in lofty flight
Might grant surcease on windswept wings
With unbought time and unsought things