Poem by Phyllis Ratcliff-Beaumonte
When love frees the soul
images flow drifting from the mind.
They retreat then reappear,
those fleeting shadows of another time.
No longer rich that devious past,
apparitions gently fade
while bells toll from within the heart
unlocking the freshness of spring at last
Yet, while waiting for love again
my eyes behold the past.
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