I Think of You

I think of you  

On soft Sunday nights

Listening to nocturnes in the sad evening light.

I think of you

At the first sight of spring

When the bluebells appear and the little birds sing.

You are the warmth of the crackling fire

And the smell of old churches

Where I can almost touch your smiling eyes

And feel you wipe away the tears from my own.

To me you are the beauty of the full midnight moon

And the wisdom of the all-knowing stars

But even they do not know my pain

At the thought that I will not see you again.

Author's Note

Inspired by Do Not Stand at My Grave and Weep

Reviews

[SyberRose]

Memories go on forever...they never die...really enjoyed your words Marina...very touching...Rose

[Marina Alexandrova]

Yes, they do. Thank you Rose