long ago and far away are the jewels of my heart kept in a reliquary not all the trees nor all the parks of the world can green them away hidden in that dark space sparkling in the dark eternity's light on their facets faces I no longer see how the dust has fallen with the encroaching night - I wonder, from that far shore, did they see my plight? I still run down the hill towards that open gate - the mystery of her love like gems in the hand cuts the skin stillnext poem