Memories

Memories
Quizmo LaGrande

Think back, my love, to precious joys,
Memories not tossed or blamed,
But happy times, a spirit poised,
Absorbed like candle’s flame

That dances in a quickened trance,
Inspiring frosty nights and vague delights,
Distracting from the vigil stance
Of heaven’s starriest lights.

Chronicles, ne’er lost, my dear,
Are etchings of the past,
Inscribed gracefully in fickle fear,
Feelings, yes, of grave contrast

Of happy days, and sullen eves,
Each lesson well absorbed,
As trees in autumn turn their leaves…
Each passing ne’er ignore.