A singing bird this twilight hour
Is trilling notes we paused to hear
When youth was like a crimson flower
Erect, untouched by frost or fear
Strange that a half remembered note
Should make my eyelids hot again
That there should now be in my throat
The ache I lightly stifled then
And passing strange to me it seems
With one long treasured by my side
That I should turn away to dreams
Of you and the roads we used to ride.....
PS: Yes, come back yesterday if only for a moment, you need not stay.