Where can I turn,
but to you.
But, you're not there.
Or are you?
I can feel your touch,
only but through
a whisper in the wind,
or a thought, a memory.

The mind playing tricks
and leading me into
another vision
of dreams,
of kisses and scents.
Dancing with you
around the Christmas Tree,
and twirling through
the clouds of time.
Wiping away a tear
upon your face,
and upon mine.
Where can I turn,
but to the past
when you were near.
Or within myself,
a secret place
that no-one knows,
but you and me.
Or to my loneliness when
I awake from my fantasy.



Where can I turn
but to my T.V.
with weary eyes,
or to a couch in
a forlorn place.
I look upon
a sun-lit day
and a moon-lit night,
knowing you are there
--somewhere.
Was that you last night,
brushing a kiss
upon my cheek?
Within my sleep
I felt you there.
Where can I turn,
but,oh to God!
And just wait,
and wait and wait.
I miss you so since
you have passed away.