The Touch Of Your Hand

You and I throughout a summer day
Have walked a sunlit way
Or stopped to play.
You and I have wandered hand in hand
Throughout a happy land
That we had planned.
I had hoped that our way might end
Where the sky and blue horizon blend.
Yet we’ve both walked our one last mile,
It’s goodbye for awhile.
When you shall see flowers that lie on the plain,
Lying there sighing for one touch of rain;
Then you may borrow,
Some glimpse of my sorrow,
And you’ll understand
How I long for the touch of your hand.
From: Gloria «Montcomags»