An Unfinished Life.

The years can be counted by played love tunes.
Sing me no finished melodies
that strike dreams,
their echo of future hope
dies soon,
but love sees clearly an unfinished life.

The air still vibrates with rich glowing sparks.
Encounters with friends will
stimulate too,
and if in warm core and depth
of your heart yearning for love is heard,
I will hear too.

Unfinished with life is the way to live.
Then, as late love calls we naturally give

carol
lovely write fay

Dorothy A. Holmes apwlts2
When love calls, allow your heart to answer... Dorothy

Ernestine Northover
What a sweet write Fay, it flows along with a light spiritual blend. Great last two lines, they finish the poem wonderfully.