Last night, when the house was silent, and sleep hung in the air,
I heard a ghostly sighing, of nights no longer here.
I heard your laugh. I saw your eyes. And the smile I love so much.
The images would drift and rise. I could almost feel your touch.
Somehow the room remembered.
Visions flowed through time -
memories warm and tender-
when our lives were entertwined.
Curtains at the window, fluttered in the wind,
like a ghost amid the shadows, trying to come in.
I could have called it memory. I could have left it there.
But I felt a touch of mystery, drifting through the air.
Wherever you are, remember me.
Visit sometimes in reverie,
in a secret place above.
Remember me , when you feel blue.
Always I'll be - remembering you.
( © 1998 - "Future Folk" Music - Betty Curtis )
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