When the night comes, I see her in dream
slowly strolling down a path to a nearby river
as her friends all play happily by the stream
I feel the joy only her sweet smile can deliver.
Every evening was the same, as I took her hand
walking a trail bathed in soothing moonlight
and while I was mindful this was a dreamland
each night those moments always felt so right.
I have not laid real eyes on her in many a year
depending only on frail memory to remember
and as I lay thy head down, I have a deep fear
this is the night memory fails, and I forget her.
I'll keep trying to remember for as long as I can
a brutal endeavour, considering its short lifespan.
YOU ARE READING
Sonnets
PoetryA collection of poetry written in a specific rhyme pattern. I hope you enjoy reading these sonnets as much as I did writing them.
