Tuesday, December 31, 2013

For Ayla

We are sent
A tide each day
It washes in 
It takes away
There is an end 
To every start
You can hold the love
But not the heart

Life is carried by
A Summer breeze
To which we all
Must be released
Life is fragile
Light and fine
Let it float away
Like dandelion ...

Love is not 
A prisoner of time


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