What I want has not changed
sea-light and star-shine
and, sometimes, maybe,
a lover’s hand in mine.
What I want is still the same
cloud shapes and tree shade
and, sometimes, maybe,
to be alone and hide away.
What I want will always be
shifting like the sands
and the colours of the sea
moving, changeless,
growing, ageless,
and maybe, sometime,
finding me.
