There is no field as
fertile as your love. How can I hold back my grateful tears? All your gifts my heart takes notice of, Now that my departure from you nears. Know that I remember the caresses You absently bestowed upon my hair, Or in the dark a thousand, thousand kisses Upon my cheek to tell me you were there. Most of what you've done for me, like flowers Of a season, sprouted, bloomed, and died. The memories of all those faithful hours, However, helped shape who I am inside. Eventually, everything we do Returns to us, as now my love to
Copyright by Nicholas Gordon. Free for personal or non-commercial use.
Audio and Video Music: Wistful Harp. By Andrew Huang. Music free to use at YouTube.