How have I loved the days when once we walked,
The nights once filled with stars and quiet talk?
How did I, do I love you smile,
And miss your touch as I awake?
How in the blustering seas do I see you,
And in the susurration of the leaves?
How in the gentle fall of rain,
Do I still feel your kisses once again?
How did I miss a mark so wide and sure,
To find myself now in some hinterland of scorn?
How could I who have loved and lost,
Now be so blind and fumble to relight the candle there?
Perhaps it is not how, or why, nor blame,
But rather just the ticking of a clock.
Perhaps, somehow, our time was come and spent,
And now in aftermath we find ourselves.
Perhaps but always, always does the circle turn,
And love turned to disgust might love again.
Perhaps then I shall simply wait,
And sit in silence till you judgement speak.