Reacan of the Mist

Looking out across pastures green,
fields and spaces as far as the eyes can see ,
footsteps taken along a path travelled before
climbing to visions clear ,
Memories rush and thoughts of misgivens come to mind,
I never knew the past to haunt like this before,
what has time given me,
nothing of regret maybe
but chosen in tence things would be different I feel ,,
Always wondering the changes ,
One can not guarentee this moment would be the same
and I would not give the feelings away
had life be the price of withhold,
Perhaps the most treasured thing I own be a dream,
I know and will remember till I die
the feel of your skin,
The silhouette in time your fingers form,
Every touch,
Every aspect of your hands
and the vision of your fingers opening as if aware to the explore ,
Your sleep the master at the helm of your soul,
maybe there once noticed
hearts stop ,
Breath taken away at sounds of your expectance ,
merely sounds in the night,
If hearts could be felt between the chores of life,
enough so angels could speak
then regrets be few
spoken converse hard,
frightened at the risk of being mist