Shadows walkers with the scent of time
their faces masked from sight,
come to call every now and then
in a mist of purple light.

Just before the dawn they come
like a whisper in the wind,
simple gifts of whats to come
or where I've always been.

Robed in a cloak of mysteries
the sands of time stand still,
they slip into my memories
and show me what they will.

Maybe it was yesterday
perhaps the day before,
a glimps, a dream, a vision
a life on distant shores.

Everything was different
and yet remained the same,
your scent, your touch so tender
though I don't recall your name.

They said that we were lovers
drowned in a pool of tears,
The veils between us parted
and consumed the many years.

Long ago we roamed as one
our days were hot and bright,
passions ran both deep and wild
well hidden in the night.

Our paths already chosen
the story had been told,
The elders swore it would not be
torn apart in days of old.

Under the moon I wait for you
and long for your embrace,
when you'll walk out of the shadows
with no mask upon your face.

Willow Dancer
10 - 25 - 02


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