Two ships, passing through the night
Is an often used, sweet, refrain.
The wayward glance, is a slight,
Comment on loneliness, that comes not again.
For all are strangers, in our sight,
The time wont last and will remain,
Lodged, in our mind, on that night
And will never be the same.
Away we will go,
like a kite in the wind.
Into the bluest of blue
in the cloudless sky.
Flit to the branch
of a new, growing tree,
catching the Sun
as it passes by.
Nothing could be more
grand, for those eyes
of mine to see,
a reflection in your eyes,
and an image of me.
The broad fields of green and gold,
with mountains high, that enfold.
the blue of lakes in your eyes,
slowly, slowly will mesmerize
my mind and it's thoughts
with over powering scent
of those Forget Me Nots.