Shall You Return Poem by David Blake

Like and Irish spring soft and pure her words of truth so easily
came. On all the cold dark winters days she held me, and I
knew that she would not by me forever stay. In the verse that
was her life she lived and loved freely. Dancing with a smile
of knowing in a magical kind of way, I marveled to have been
one of the few how knew her in this way. Like a vision long
gone I now after some many years wonder if she was mealy a
dream or part of a reality that for a moment in time was pure
and complete.