A VEIL OF A thousand years dropped between you and me when you turned your face and merged in a past where spectre-like dwell they who missed love's path in a timorous dusk of doubt. The space is but narrow that divides us, a tiny stream weaving in its murmur the memory of our parting moment the pathos of your passing footsteps. And all that I can offer to you is the music of an unspoken love for it to follow you and vanish.
WHEN THE weariness of the road is upon me, and the thirst of the sultry day; when the ghostly hours of the dusk throw their shadows across my life, then I cry not for your voice only, my friend, but for your touch. There is an anguish in my heart for the burden of its riches not given to you. Put out your hand through the night, let me hold it and fill it and keep it; let me feel its touch along the lengthening stretch of my loneliness.
