Back to verse after a run of prose. The prompt for this pair of triolets was a line in a previous post (…what had been left behind was lovely).
What is left behind is lovely
Though the moments slip away
Though sunset fades across the sea
What is left behind is lovely
The turning leaves upon the tree
The words we have no need to say
What is left behind is lovely
Though the moments slip away.As these moments slip away
As those leaves fall from the tree
As sunset deadens into grey
As these moments slip away
Into the shadows of the day
You remain, love, here with me
As these moments slip away
As those leaves fall from the tree.
Folksong and Fantasy 
I do like these poems. Must make a real effort to try to work one out.
Thanks, Jane. I’ve not written much verse lately. Not written much of anything, lately. Sighs.
You are gainfully employed though. I don’t have that excuse.
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