Sonnet 20

'Cross the miles, my heart for thee doth yearn,
A constant ache that time cannot appease.
Each passing day, the longing seems to burn,
Flame fueled by memories which weaken my knees.

Though leagues may lie between us, far and wide,
Your image lingers, etched upon my mind.
In dreams we meet, where distance cannot hide,
And love's embrace a solace I can find.

But waking brings the stark reality,
The empty space where you should be beside.
Yet hope remains; flickering certainty,
That soon, my love, we'll cast these bonds aside.

And hand in hand, beneath the same bright sky,
Our hearts will beat as one; ne'vr to run dry.

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Moving Through Grief