She strolls through these shades of yesterday
like a ghost that harbors fast the journey
holds all upon the ancient mirror of life's reflections
And whispers out my name.

An old image, taunting still within me
the first sacred kiss of ruby lips
that bite of loves first tinge that fills
Every long lost memory to her and that day.

She gathers upon me like a cloud
full and ready to release its depth
of flooding emotions that pour down
To drench the sweet confines of sleep to her.

Alisdaire O'Caoimph