By Ron Chavez
When all the bells have rung
And all the birds have sung
And the poets have left nothing unsaid
Or so it seems inside my head
Let not the last words I hear
Let it not be the dreaded final good-bye
Now as the dark of night grows near
Must I feel my worst fears?
How far must I look to see?
What a fool am I to imagine how it could be?
Must I not dare to dream? Tell me it's not so
That I in my long and lonely way must go
Perhaps there was something I might have missed?
Or are you but a fragile swirl in a mountain mist
Come back, come back like a sweet-smelling silk glove
Rush in with the wind or ride on the wings of a dove
For you will always be where my soul has dwelt
In my heart, there my spirit forever is uplifted to rest
Yet you left at the very moment I so warmly felt
After your sweet kiss when I fell to my intimate best
Could it be it was probably something I missed?
Or were you in the end but a dream in a mist
Swirling away in the morning sun high into the sky
Left to just sadly sigh and bid you a misty fly by