Remains Of The Day Poem by MacGregor Tagliaferro

Now; old and grey and tired, done with the day,
By the fire with this book and a whisky,
Slowly readin', and dreamin' of that look
Your eyes had in the lengthening shadows;
How I loved each moment of grace with you,
And your way with beauty and elegance
But those days are past and long, long at rest
Left with the sorrows of my changin' face,
Bendin' down beside the glowin' embers,
Whisperin'; 'Sleep well, there was none but you'
And that is all that remains of the day
Retreatin' back into rhythyms and rhymes
Hidin' myself amid a crowd of words
Amongst what remains of the reveries