Gaze heavenly as distant suns,
allay the chills upon her heart.
The mask she wears to hide the truth,
brings comfort, strength, to play her part.
The stage is set the story told,
devotion at its very core.
The song she sings mere prophecies,
of lives to come and lived before.
Pray rest a while my weary child,
take time to smell the sweet-dewed grass.
Come play once more with childish mind,
let not your days of future pass.
For what was then is here and now,
reflected in another’s eyes .
While walking on life’s endless path,
The ghosts that haunt a faithful guide.
R.M Roberts © 2009
Tales From Behind A Cushion 