With you, my heart is quiet here,
And all my thoughts are cool as rain.
I sit and let the shifting year
Go by before the windowpane,
And reach my hand to yours, my dear . . .
I wonder what it's like in Spain.
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Comments1Just working on my english homework & remebered this one by Dorothy Parker. "And reach my hand to yours, my dear..." Gosh, read it back in middle school and it still hits! The subtle romance, the longing, all of it!