Alphabets in the Sand

In pictures ancient, you can see

Painted curtains left to dry

Footprints in the snow, one you, one me

In the sky are sparkling Northern lights

–

Like Hansel and Gretal, a bread filled mead

On a journey to Neverland

Point in the hourglass where you said

We’d carve alphabets in the sand

–

The meadow went from bush to stone

But time lives on in my hands

Where the paper , brown and worn

Smiles away carelessly, shy yet grand

–

I hear a whisper that tells

Me to look for berries by the trees

That whisper in my heart for a moment dwells

Hums dimmer and is lost to the trees