Friday, 6 April 2012

Dreams of might have been's By Georgina Arthur


Sweet angel, the clock does not move with out my thoughts drifting to you. At night I lie in bed and picture your face and dream the scenes that might have been. In spirit I know you are near me I know you share my life's joys but what would I not give to be able to hold out my hand and touch your gentle face once more.

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