a moment bursts…

a moment bursts and on a thousand wings
of song its fragments soar into the eyes
which look so deeply into mine their sighs
are like the rustles that a spring breeze sings;
lone fields of dream where slumber brings
its resting beings though the summer flies
still steadily and passing you implies
that dawn is yet again to break; so flings
a thousand songs on wing of memory
into a land we see purely in sleep
yet try to recreate so furtively
in twining fingers and a lovers’ leap
into the great shattering unknown to see
that only you are truly real to me.

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