In fitful nights of longed-for slumber
dreams provoke, that one remembers.
one of a boy I thought I knew,
perhaps still do,
if what you say is true.
lay there, I, in your arms, at night,
hands clasped, devoid of fright.
your eyes shining, as they so used to do,
and you whispered those sweetest words,
gentle to mine paining ears:
"Past be damned, if you only knew;
lord, how I have missed you."