
“Youth is happy because it has the capacity to see beauty. Anyone who keeps the ability to see beauty never grows old.”
― Franz Kafka
Melancholy light comes creeping in
mingles with dwindling tuscan gold of day
hearing mournful notes of ancient violins
with sunset’s fading comes a slipping away
Mingling with dwindling tuscan gold of day
are memories of time gone and falling tears
with sunset’s fading comes a slipping away
remembering our joyous youthful years
Memories of time gone and falling tears
drowning in the flowing river of your eyes
remembering our joyous youthful years
the wasted lows and the rapturous highs
Drowning in the flowing river of your eyes
Hearing mournful notes of ancient violins
The wasted lows and the rapturous highs
When melancholy light comes creeping in
The Sunday Muse: # 137