It seems wherever I go,
People come into my life, or go out of it--
Touching me where I feel;
Then leaving me only a memory,
Like the Gossamer fairy talesof childhood -- easily forgotten;
And I wasn’t through knowing them.
How do I know
whom I am seeing for the last time?
How do you halt your life
to gather and keep all those that
you’ve ever known?
how do you keep
Fairy Tales from losing their
m a g i c?
brush against the walls of my life,
And stay long enough for us to know each other,
Even though we’ll have to part sometimes,
And we both know the longer you stay,
the more I’ll want you back when you're gone.
But come anyway...
For Fairy Tales are the happiest stories
And great books
are made of