A fragrance or a touch, on my name lingers...
I feel a warm caress of some known fingers.
A spot of yellow flowers & my memory gets a jog,
A ray of golden sunshine pierces the great fog…
…the fog of distance, the passage of time,
And a bell rings... a beautiful chime.
The yellow dot turns, in my mind at last…
And a misty face smiles at me... a kin from the past.
193