Let Me
by Vern A. Decato
Why are you sad?
Why do you cry?
Has the mirror today
Not been your friend?
Are you thinking of younger days,
Warmer days,
When love was fresh
And youthful hearts
Made wishes on star light
For longer hours, longer days?
Do you dream of lilacs,
And summer fields,
And holding hands with your
Love-to-be?
Do you miss the songs of six pence,
Pockets full of rye?
Do you miss the apple trees
The October sky –
Blue in its coldness,
Seeking warmth
From trees ablaze with autumn fire?
Let me take you there.
Let me take you to that place
Where you, today, so need to go.
Let me sing to you songs which
Gladden the heart,
Loosen the foot,
Ease the mind.
Let me hold your hand,
And, with tender touch,
Transfer to your weary soul
My youth.
Let me listen to your voice
And walk with you down Memory Lane
Where maple trees lend their shade
And hush their secrets to us as we pass.
Take me to the place where you first loved.
Tell me the tender words spoken there,
The first time you said "No,"
The first time you said "Yes."
Let us dine among the roses
Which, through wooden rails,
Weave blossoms of fleeting beauty,
Their perfume, to lucky pilgrims, cast.
Let us late into the night converse --
Our laughter,
Slumber’s prelude,
An ointment for the soul.
Let me, upon your forehead, plant a kiss --
A badge to be bravely displayed,
Making demons flee,
Bidding angels, from their ivory palaces, to come
As messengers from God,
Bearing celestial solace,
Heaven’s gift:
Peace.