Reflections of Time by Maria Fokas
Strangers crossing paths; do not stop but for a glance.
Like morning to dawn with the turning of time.
And the winds caressing days, will dance;
to the ticking of a heart flying high –
. . .
But do not mis-take my love;
There is no sadness in my sigh;
It is that I miss you so,
When we say goodbye.