Looking back I feel I know her still,
Her, the little girl who plays on my strwaberry hill,
Love is so deep from love of ages past,
Stones of castles ruined make homes that last,
I think of my little heart at eight, nine, and ten,
And how much I wished to love her then,
Cast through the warped chasm of time,
I say I love you in this rhyme.
By Ryan Anthony Gibson