I hope these moments never die
When your gaze makes love to me
I glance back, a little shy
And wonder whether you are free.
Silently I urge you to speak
But you look away
I am bewitched but also meek
At what you might or might not say.
Quietly our fondness grew
Within the silence of our eyes
Imploring you to come to me
Until our gaze turn into sighs.
Too late now the moments have passed
Today has gone and tomorrow diminished
Somehow I knew it couldn’t last
Yet how will I know that it is finished?
A POEM BY MARY LEADBETTER