Soft shadows of this evening hour, that linger so forlorn.
Where lay you, when this night has gone, and been replaced by morn?
What memories hold you, in your breast
Of hours before I laid to rest,
This aching, ageing case I wear,
Within this life so torn?

Your voices whisper, soft and low, inaudible to ears,
And yet, I know you watch o'er me, and cause my heart no fears.
You shield and guide me, on my way
And lead me softly to each day,
And yet, to me, you will not yield
the gifts of all these years.

For in the light of dawn I search, my troubled heart and brow,
In hope, and filled with such desire, that I may know these now.
Yet still my searching you evade,
and leave me in this lost parade,
No sign, nor murmur, there remains
I'm left, to question why?

How can it be, I'm this alone, with darkness as my friend,
When light and love hath touched my heart, and caused my mind to send
Sweet messages, in poem and prose,
a liken'd semblence of a rose,
In verbal metamorphosis.
My heart, was born to lend.

Soft shadows, take my sleeping heart, and keep it safe from pain,
That with the dew, of waking morn, it shall be washed of stain.
For all I know, or see or do,
Shall be reflected in that dew
And when the sun doth warm the land,
My heart may love again.

Lines composed on a spring evening 1994.

Maélwys /|\