A Passing Fancy I know nowLooking back with some clarity That all of our grapes Our wine And even our bedsheets Would have turned sour The romance Once shimmering Dazzling And electric Would have grown old Tedious And moldy The high sounding promises Vows And love songs Would have subsided Becoming nothing more than whispers Moans And the jingle jangling sounds Of wind chimes Bothered Now and then By light breezes Nothing more Than a passing fancy |
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© Jamie McKenzie, all rights reserved.
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