Click here to hear the poet read his words:

copyright c e ayr

Click here to hear the poet read his words:


warm summer days mean naught to me
I don’t care for golden sunbeams
I prefer to dwell in moonlight
and to spend my life in dreams

I recall those nights from times long gone
seconds crawled and hours ran
I remember you were woman
and for fleeting moments I was man

so many fragments in my mind
they never cease I can’t begin
yet still I see the traces left
by your fingers on my skin

those days in number 46
when we struggled free from strife
enough to eat enough to love
the best days of my life

but all the joy you gave to me
I dragged blind through each bleak mile
and never more was I to see
your truth your soft vague smile

they strangely disappeared one day
near the brow of Briar Hill
a moment wide a moment bright
a decade of dark cruel chill

This entry was posted in Poetry, Poetry and tagged , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

4 Responses to dreamer

  1. Cassa Bassa says:

    What’s loss is more than the person but a life time of memory.


  2. Leyde Ryan says:

    Oh Wow, oh wow, oh wow…difficult to find intelligent words for this… achingly exquisite. Leslie


  3. Corina says:

    I really done care for poetry but this poem is special. It captures moments and on the other hand, a whole life.


  4. jenne49 says:

    Such is life, love, regret…
    And, as you’ve done so movingly, the poet’s job to capture it in words.


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