David Weaver
gone but not forgotten
‘Mists of time’
David Weaver ©
I drove through the valley this morning,
to a place called, ‘I know not where’.
It’s a favourite haunt I remember so well,
dreaming of love I once shared.
I turned in the car at one empty space,
at first lonely with no one to see.
But then I was joined by a face from the past,
and we drove into dreams you and me.
You looked as I’d always remembered,
when I loved you without a regret.
To the times when we shared our secrets,
before the moulds of our lives had been set.
I reached out and touched your bare shoulder,
turned your face so I’d see its fine lines.
Kissed you full on the lips with a passion,
stroked your smooth skin like old times.
I remembered my loins singing symbols,
wanted you more than dare said.
But you turned me away with my longing,
passion wasting away in my head.
Now I drive through the valley of long ago,
remembering those times from the past.
Saying the things I have never said,
as the rock of my spurning was cast.
On into the valley of ‘I know not where’,
hidden ghosts from times gone all around.
I’ll keep searching for you in the misty hills,
knowing one day you’ll be found.
