The dice of togetherness then was cast.
Life was suddenly warm cosy sublime.
Intense, hectic, priceless but fleeting fast
Were the honey-sweetened moments of Time.
The tide rose, the tide fell, all over soon
For us to remember what is no more.
Memory is both a curse and a boon.
It does bring some pearly jewels ashore.
Our world this is a seething boiling pot
And we are specks agitated in it.
We know not wherefrom whereto we are shot
Or perchance approximated a bit.
For those great little moments we owe so much
To That Greatest Hand and Its Generous Touch.
A disjointed sonnet written in bewilderment of pleasure and pain, loss and gain, but in memory of your visit to your native land. 1979