|
The waters of the stream so sweet
That filled our island home
The spring untapped a million years
That flowed for us alone
We smugly talked of love, of life,
Then talked no more, no need
No sudden storms, no nasty squalls,
No sign we thought to heed
Could I be standing on my own?
The gentle waves break near
Break rock to sand? I understand.
A lonely taste is fear.
|
|
