Memory hurts – our hearts are stung
But sometimes I think the pain is for
Not a particular place but more
A special time – when we were young
For freer days when we knew hope
And what we felt we had was – scope.
Time is so brief I fear
In which to have you near
Your work extends you so...
Shall I begin with your rare hair
Heaven to press my face against?
Eyes to bring me to despair...