At times, I cry… when remember I…
Such moments long ago, alone with thee,
When wouldst thou sing–weep, remembering–
Such times as when at first thou sang’st to mee.

And sweet thy song… delicate but strong…
That calmed such tears, as sweet thy notes would sing;
So quiet true–calming these anew–
Such tears as next to mee thy song might bring.

Thou knew’st not why… often would I cry…
Though lovingly wouldst soothe thou mee to sleep.
For when of thee–sadly did foresee–
Such lonely secrets once I sought to keep.

So cry to thee… fearing quietly…
That ripped I’d be, from thee away, and weep.

This sonnet is part of a short sequence; click here to read it all:

Permalink