Some seek permanence with their gaze

but eyes can't grasp the shape of days;

so truer far that they might see

through the prism of symmetry.

 

There, by the real and in the round

is lasting satisfaction found:

what then is seen as understood

states that all those gifts deemed as good

 

through standards taught to us by heart

are graces which each, for their part

evolved as wishes to attest

to all that we grant suits us best.

 

The kiss which isn't there tomorrow

only leaves us bent with sorrow,

whilst lips that meet us on the morn

each day will greet us as reborn.

 

Their press is soft and warm and sweet

and taste as good with each repeat.

Such dreams as these it's wise to seek.

Trust me: i know whereof i speak.