To Ever Meet Again

To Ever Meet Again

One summer day upon a meadowed hill I lay.

Would that it might, for here I could ever stay.

Having now arrived by a path through the wood,
stopping by the brook where my love had stood.

But now alone, of her, in my memory, it seems,
likened to the nights she appeared in my dreams.
She, a ghostly figure I am unable to hear or touch,
that once in my arms I had loved, loved so much.

So lying here, looking up, I gaze upon a liquid sky,
wrapped in a melancholy feeling, yet I do not cry.
Even now this heart, by an ache that won’t let loose,
remembers the moment that I to her was introduced.

And in these sweet perfumed thoughts I languish,
savoring the drifting thoughts of the one I miss,
until a deep and comforting sleep for me I take,
to dream on as though with her, never I to wake.

John Mullinax May 2010