Your laugh, lilting like lines
Flung from a fiddle fair,
Sweeping sweetly o’er the shaded field
Where once we were young
Now echoes only in my mind,
In memories, clouded-
A Pine forest in the morning mist,
A bridge fogged over
Until there can be no certainty
That there is another side-
Only in this hollow palce
Does that joyful sound
Now ring, now roll, now rise.
And how I long to hear it once again
Ripple across the deep blue ocean of your eyes.