For Elizabeth

Once upon a long, long time,
a young man I could have been;
chewed a way through poverty,
and missed a wealth he never seen.
He didn't know just where to go,
or indeed, where he had been,
convention fought,
and long time thought,
him special, so it seemed.
But time has turned, as time is due,
and holding sand in grasp'ed hand
twix'd fingers will flow through.
No November yet this old god,
though Samhain comes with time,
upon the sand no other hand,
but the Lady's draws a line.
No turning point, no font of gold,
but to live and do thy will
to Love, and to make Love
as life and time unfold.