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Click hereTo Chris,
Once again, thank you for the inspiration.
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When the grey upon my head
Far outnumber the darker tones,
When I find that what I once sought,
I had, long ago, outgrown,
The only keepsake I shall clasp,
Close upon my breast,
Will be your whisper’d words to me,
Sweet wine on honeyed breath.
When I no longer seek the warmth
Of promises fulfilled,
But rather bask beneath the chill
Of silent waters still,
The only cloak that I shall wear
Will be the lines you wrote,
Both melody and counterpoint
Of never-ending notes.
Those times will come, (they’re almost here,)
The trickling sands will end,
The journey, long ago, begun,
Has reached the final bend.
And when the angels up above
Unlock my soul apart,
They shall see your words to me
Inscribed upon my heart.