Dreams of You

My dreams of you are like the fallen leaves,
colored with brilliance, nomad rustling things,
tossed by winds of olden memories--
they prate of golden summertimes and springs.

When skies were gray you flung them all away--
but I, who loved them, hoard such gifts as these.
By day I revel in their golden lights;
at night they whisper tender sympathies.

Copyright permission to publish has been given by the
Carmel of the Mother of God, Pewaukee Wisconsin. All rights reserved.

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