Dream Come True Poem by Mary Champion

Once I'd have died for that kiss.
Oh, how I cried for that kiss.
So brief and so chaste;
Oh, what a waste,
When once I'd have died for that kiss.

Were your mem'ries stirred by that kiss?
Were dreams disinterred by that kiss?
Or were you left cold?
Has love grown too old?
Were our mem'ries stirred by that kiss?

Are there embers still of that fire?
Who remembers the thrill of that fire?
A butterfly kiss
Might once have been bliss.
Are there embers still of that fire?