I long to be with you, my friend.
Remembering the days now past.
I felt the warm breeze on my face,
your hand in mine, where you first asked.

Your eyes, pure blue, would hold that hint
of impishness, a feisty hue.
It's just a memory I know,
yet anguishing I reach for you.

Reliving it, I'm on that street,
envisioning where we'd first kiss.
But then the clock would disengage,
and I'm just left to reminisce

of one who shared the sweetest verse.
A bard whose death felt like a curse.