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.

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