Splendor was the sweetest tune

Bestowed upon thine ears

sights of a flower turned to sound

Beauty not seen

But loveliness consumed only by they who hear

memory a gift to the mind

to reminisce on that which was

in times of hardship in times of pain

remember only the things of love

but alas how old I have grown

and hard of hearing I am

so now the only thing I feel is the touch of a caring hand