Passion

A pen in hand in deep thought,
In deep longing, and deep expression
Wondering how to pass the hours,
Memorably, exclaiming dear passion

Then I thought way back when
I first had writ when passion began
Of lasting ways to count the days
Of memories written in the sand

The days were nights, and the nights,
They were days of nostalgic sights
Whenever my mind falls to flight
And sleeps to dream of such delight

Look past the perception yonder
And repeat as my pen does wonder.