I still remember your voice Like a wet lily On a dewey winter morning, As the wind blows past, It sways and whistles Under the shadow of a tree Where cuckoo sings While the sun rises over the horizon. I still remember your eyes, Cajoling me to laugh, Glistening as if A slow flowing brook, Studded with pearls priceless, unknown. In which I could dive But not drown. Its your gaze That'll kill me; and nothing else.