The moonlight danced between the leaves
the night you said to me,
”I remember your question, but not your name.”
Something awakens in me when I remember
You asked me why I disappeared years ago.
How could I leave him when he loved me so?
As I look through the dancing leaves above,
my memories fill my heart like a soaring dove!
Can it be I just didn't understand his question,
or was I being selfish for wanting more?
What is right for us today
may be wrong for us tomorrow.
All we can do is our best,
and hope no pain will follow.
Yet isn't it better to know the pain
than to feel nothing at all?
It reminds me that I am still here,
that tomorrow will be filled with new sensations.
Pain is something we can't control.
We can let it consume us or let it go.
For me I choose not to give in.
My love for doing fun things begins.
I chose to sing a happier song,
to start out fresh and so move on.
Life is gleeful and is sweet,
and made sweeter by the friends we meet.
So having loved that one so strong
and learned the ecstasy of a lover's pain,
we see in friends' faces
that common thread of being.
My thoughts race backwards to a time
when a loaf of bread cost only a dime.
How did things get so far off track?
Please bring the old times back!
A time when your smile would melt my heart,
your kiss would cause a swoon.
Do you remember the day we first kissed?
Or only the time when we said we would part?
Thinking back to that day so long ago,
my heart feels the sadness still.
Why didn't we fight to save what we had,
or was it just easier to let go?
As I write these lines in my journal,
all these thoughts and memories
flow like an endless river,
preserved for someone else to read
As I find myself back in the present,
wondering why you said to me,
”I remember your question,
but not your name.”
So my story ends.............
Just one of many stories that fills these pages,
a life's worth of stories in this old, worn journal that I hold.
What was, what could have been and what is:
It's all here, my life between these pages,
my life between these pages.
My journal is an extension of me,
filled full of deep thoughts, trials, and dreams.
Holding fast to the truths they all convey
makes my life more precious than I can say!
And is maybe more for me
Bernice Wagnitz, Beverly A. Sams, Cathy Minerva, Shelley Sparks, Stacy Merrill, Constanza Berger, SueAnn Lommler