* * *
The papers have faded away
the ink on the nib has dried like thin paint
an ever-surging wind blows from the bay
Not allowing for me to replay
that smile on her face so faint
the papers have faded away
Her chequered dress of that midday
remembered in that phrase as quaint
an ever-surging wind blows from the bay
The words have flown away in disarray
and memories trusted to ink are now faint
the papers have faded away
For memory is so prompt to betray
and cannot be held back by any restraint
an ever-surging wind blows from the bay
Causing nothing but the smile to remain to my dismay
as the image dissolves leaving nothing but feint
the papers have faded away
An ever-surging wind blows from the bay.
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