A thought comes stealthily to mind
not like a thief to steal
but to leave a package bound and wrapped
with remembrances
and a card to say write today
the words of a love story.
And I search the archives of that mind
from the start until today
looking for a grain of truth
to weave the plot around.
I find instead impressions
where once the grains did lie
and know that in the world today
truth has gone awry.
The grains of truth blow o’er the earth
but sometimes, yes, they stop to rest
and show their colours openly
to those who wish to know.
And they can see within that truth
how love can truly be
but before pen’s put to paper
the wind blows yet again.
So of that thought I’m sad to say
its efforts are to no avail
when truth and love caught every day
in the gales of life’s disdain!
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