Early morning chill and the gentle kiss of moist dew,

Eyes fogged with tinted memories of weeks before,

The love gained and the love lost,

On the bittersweet nights of Cherry lane,

Embrace the darkness,

Forget the light,

Glance at the storm as it raises its voice,

Ignore the sun peeking through the milky-white clouds,

Taste the beauty of the rainfall,

Skin is tight around his arms,

Legs and face,

But his heart,

The tender and gentle touch of grace,

A love to summon the inner peace,

He was one of many…

One of far too many,

But his gift of tendered bliss,

His keen eyes of emerald stone,

The taste of fondness on his lips,

His name will be the rythm to the beat of my heart for all eternity,

Oh, his curled copper locks of hair,

Contouring his delicate face,

His crisp grin of compassion,

I scream his name as I inhale the velvet smoke on Cherry Lane,

Oh, the lost loves of Cherry Lane...