One Or Two Poem by Barry Middleton

My loves live on in clearest memory,
for I have not forgot what used to be.
And though my hair is gray, my spirit weak,
I still will cherish all of whom I speak.
Yes, I remember every night of bliss,
and passion in their touch and in their kiss.
In age a man is left with only dreams
that quietly flow like wistful midnight streams.
I must confess that there were one or two,
that now add up to dreams of quite a few.