Those days were the days of love. We were wild and free. We were young and beautiful. In the velvet moonlight, dancing by the beach in our blue nightgowns, we couldn’t help singing each other songs all night, bewildering operas that only we could ever dare to sing. The beauty lay upon us.
Happiness is a restless feeling. It may bloom in the summer, but it’s not waterproof either. The same can’t be said wrong about love. The opera suddenly went low. It’s tone dropped. The chord was when that scared the falcons and crows away. It was sad, and desperate. And then it completely broke. The crowd got up to leave. Some left. Some jeered. Some felt sorry. And then it was all over.
IT WAS TIME TO MOVE ON…
Stories of ecstasy 
Love that brief flash of vivid beauty and the hard return to normality afterward. 🙂
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We can trully feel the bliss of this one moment in time.
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Parabéns por seu espaço e obrigado por estar conosco..
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To love is hard and healing of broken heart takes many time.but those days are your treasure.🙂
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You are only 11 years old.
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Who told you that? I am about to get retired. I am 59. I am just a simple old person living in the hustle bustle of the New York City.
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Well described…time moves on as do we..
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Thanks. Yeah, it surely does.
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