Regret - Poetry

Source

There is so much to say and yet it is not the time.
Not much time of day for my tongue to stay
Where is so long the way to my path sublime?

_
Sundered are the moments, the hours and days.
No hour in the day the wake of night portends
Blundered my movements mind lost in maze.

Future to past always each opportunity missed.
Opportunity forsaken upon the morning rays
Suture to last, obeys needle upon skin kissed.

A memory grasped yet as sand through fingers.
Sandy trails shifting, a final memory gasped
Heathery clasped hair, her scent still lingers.

To heart held as dear as any treasure or wonder.
The wonder dear a treasure to fool and seer
A chart dwelled upon in an ocean of surrender.