(...)

Before I was young,
A song to me was sung.
I cannot catch the words today,
Barely more than a memory
I am not so sure, but it was romance:
A clear sky o’er a bride so sad.
Someone died of heartache
And sky went on and on and on.

But if I sang the song today
It would be about the dead:
Aurora o’er the plateau of little bones.
One would live through his heartache,
And forever the ocean lies above him.
How grey the sky would be
With the ocean lying above me.


Then, I would sing how
You are my surface and my beneath.  
You are the art I would sculpt and praise.
After all the years I lived before you
I cannot want to imagine a single day
Without you in my heart and path.



© 2018 Marten Hoyle