All the things my senses have
Catalogued, iike shimmering
Sunsets, mountains, storms at sea;
Violets, the smell of spring;
Gardenias at a summer dance;
Praise from lips of smiling friends;
Bird-song in the garden’s dusk;
The taste of smoke as summer ends-
Each sensation, old or new,
Fades, beside the thought of you.
by Ray Romine Monday, March 27, 1950
