Till the Morn is Nigh.

In her Heart of hearts,

No, she doesn't want to Leave.

She'd very much love to Stay,

And watch as fluffy whites sail by

Where the sky meets the sea.

Frigidly cast, her mien displays none of such whims.

Yes, she longs to dance in the field of daffodils.

Yet, Life will have none of this.

She's leaving.

Today.

Goodbye, Sleeping Seal.

Dream as You will.

Morning beckons

And wake must I,

Sans sweet song and lullaby.

In A Matter Of Days.

Come Friday, Change will arrive.

The last of memories - the rides, banter, joy and laughter - shall be no more.

Goodbye.

I leave with a heavy heart, but it must be done.

For I'm moving far from where You are,

Before You too, depart.