Time it was when nothing else seemed to matter
except the shadow world of deadened dreams.
Time it was when the fallible and faithless had joined
forces to take the final failed train out of town.
Time it was when nothing glimpsed through empty eyes
could halt the dark descent of stark surrender.
Time it was when giving up and letting go seemed
an altogether attractive way to travel.
And then there was you.
What time it was or may now be
no longer carries any weight,
not while fingers explore the fragile
beauty of your softly arching brow.
What time it was or may come to be
fades away beyond all relevance,
replaced and gently interlaced
as lovers’ hands are wont to do.
What time it was is past, long gone,
for we will build a sweeter song,
filled with each successive moment
in a time that is ours alone.
Copyright r.b.franklin 22/04/07