Here is a place where time turns on its head
and summer nights are longer than their days,
where autumn leaves are green and just in bud
and spring brings frost and fog before the snows
that carpet hills and vales with gleaming white.

Where you and I loose hands, our searching lips
grow cold and shrink away from each caress
as, younger day by day, we watch our love's
retreat - and know each other less and less.

The sun's dark glow illuminates the night
and pale moonlight falls daily on the strand
where waves of sand rush in on desert tides
to fall on waters covering the land
that once was haven, home and safe fireside.

  Roger Collett