Images
.
a
n
d
.
glimpses,
.
.
a
n
d
.
.
images
.
a
n
d
.
glimpses,
.
.
a
n
d
.
.
images
.
a
n
d
.
glimpses,
.
.
o
f
.
.
you . . .
–
–
–
.
.
.
The
candle
.
o
f
.
my
soul . . .
–
–
–
.
.
.
~ the
candle
.
o
f
.
my
hope . . .
–
–
–
.
.
.
burns
.
f
o
r
.
you . . .
–
–
–
.
.
.
every
day,
.
.
a
n
d
.
.
every
night . . .
–
–
–
.
.
.
~ even
.
a
s
.
weeks
.
a
n
d
.
months
.
g
o
.
by . . .
–
–
–
.
.
.
because
.
I
.
know
.
t
h
a
t
.
even
.
i
f
.
distance,
.
.
m
u
s
t
.
.
walk
.
t
h
e
.
miles,
–
–
you
.
w
i
l
l
.
someday
arrive
.
w
i
t
h
.
a
.
tender
smile . . .
–
–
–
.
.
.
~ with
.
a
.
tender
smile
.
t
h
a
t
.
erases
all
.
t
h
e
.
time
.
gone
by . . .
–
–
–
.
.
.
~ all
the
.
t
i
m
e
.
gone
by . . .
–
–
–
.
.
.
You
.
w
i
l
l
.
arrive
with
.
t
h
a
t
.
blissful
wine,
–
–
which
pours
.
i
t
s
.
joy
.
a
n
d
.
delight,
–
–
into
.
t
h
e
.
yearning
heart
.
o
f
.
mine . . .
–
–
–
.
.
.
~ into
.
t
h
e
.
yearning
heart
.
o
f
.
mine . . .
–
–
–
.
.
.
You
.
w
i
l
l
.
arrive,
.
.
w
i
t
h
.
.
those
eyes . . .
–
–
–
.
.
.
~ with
.
t
h
o
e
.
eyes
.
t
h
a
t
.
charm
.
a
n
d
.
warm
me
.
a
l
l
.
the
while . . .
–
–
–
.
.
.
~ all
.
t
h
e
.
while
.
t
h
a
t
.
you
.
a
r
e
.
mine . . .
–
–
–
.
.
.
~ all
.
t
h
e
.
while
.
t
h
a
t
.
you
.
a
r
e
.
mine . . .
–
–
–
.
.
.
next
time . . .
–
–
–
.
.
.
Next
time,
.
.
I
.
.
w
i
l
l
.
waltz
with
.
t
h
e
.
drifting
tide . . .
–
–
–
.
.
.
Next
time,
.
.
I
.
.
w
i
l
l
.
never
.
s
a
y
.
goodbye . . .
–
–
–
.
.
.
~ I
.
w
i
l
l
.
never
.
s
a
y
.
goodbye . . .
–
–
–
.
.
.
next
time.
Reflection: This was a romantic-themed poem that I wrote back in September of 2002 in reflection of a brief, but powerful romantic experience I had back then. I probably should have done more to try to keep it going – because even though you might believe the opportunity will come around again, many times it doesn’t. So, you have to make the most of it the first time it happens. I’ve had several experiences like this in my life as I’m sure many others have.