Beloved,
Since that sad November night,
I often, in my waking hours,
try desperately to relive
those happy years with you,
though always felt as if were
just reading stories about us,
in beautifully-bound diaries,
each stamped 'For reading only'.
But in my dreams those stories
all come to life, allowing me
to see you, hear you, feel you,
as if you were still with me...
Old memories will slowly fade,
but God-inspired imagination
will help us to rekindle them,
in dreams, more real than life...
Sept.12,2006
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem