Love A Memory More

Love a Memory More

“How do I love Thee, let me count the ways”…

are you of now, or are you a memory ?

Ah, the memoirs along the Path of Life

are they not as poignant as the tenderest moment?

If you are here, I remember the days

we laugh and play and work and cry…

but together we are, each day spawning another

fail to bookmark the time, and reflect a bit.

Life with you now is always a “comma”,

cherished days strung together with special phrases.

But memories are suspended so still in time -

So final. No more. Vanished. Regrets. Period.

I love the memory more since it can never be

in the present with you and I – ever again.

‘O to love you more? just become a memory

where I can reminisce without ‘now’ in the way.

Memories are what dreams are often made of – to be

held within the confines of our minds.