The Taste of a Dream

O! This is a deep despair,
My heart was yours—to hold—
And now it’s cold…

My love—it seems to me,
I’ve lived a century
Without you—in my arms.

And in the autumn of memories—
Across seasons we never lived
I will not forget your name,
My lullaby.

O! Unconscious love
Is all I feel…
But what seems so real,
Is but the taste
Of a dream…

And in the spring the roses
Cut my fingers with their thorns.
Bleeding, I bring them to the path we’ve chosen,
In time for you to say, “Goodbye.”

And when you said my name—in the night—
I felt the tears in my heart.
You smiled and you slept away
As if you might just say
What I yearned to hear.
But you were silent where you lay,
And I began to cry.

© 2021 Marten Hoyle