Your song had drifted over golden fields,

the gentle tap expected, barely felt,

heard myself say: ‘Welcome, come in,

I  had not expected you so soon again.’

Your visits were irregular and often feared,

until I learned to listen to the words,

to lose myself in lyrics and deep chords;

when you arrived I was no more disturbed.

I found in shadowed moments certain grace,

divined in unseen form your inner gifts,

could sense the hidden truths that you did hold;

surrendered so all fears were then dismissed.

Ah sadness, all those years that we did lose,

when ignorance had made me call you fiend,

rejected you as enemy, and mortal foe,

when we were one, no other was involved.

About rosross

Editor, writer, poet.
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