(READ ALL TIM LABBE POEMS)
She returned
to the twilight,
as lovers
often have.
Daybreak,
an eternity
away.
The season of
wine and song,
longing
and laughter
…dull in thought.
Forever
remembrances
were not
hollow words.
Her heart
knew of it’s lust,
longing the
forgotten desire.
For truth’s integrity
always held on to
eternal intent
But age had the
advantage
of knowing
Knowing
what was best
for the heart
Yet the heart knew what
was best for the soul.
by
Tim Labbe
Leave a Reply