Opus 1645

Phillip A. Ellis

Diamond points of sun on sea,
   glittering freely, seize the gaze
   of a heart that plays its air
   melancholic, burdened with cares,
   until the heart to lightness is given
and every trespass against it forgiven.

So lightly that you seemed to hover
   in my arms I held you
   as the sun's light lightly touched
   upon the water's surface, rough
   with the choppy wavelets of the bay
that kept the swell away.

Though memories are faint and webs
   are toyed with by the slightest breeze,
   the absence of warmth makes the water cold
   (the sunlight's ice, not gold),
no longer have I you to hold.

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