May It Be

Find me in the summer's end,
When dreams have had their fill,
Eating at the irony- long
Abandoned by my will.

When time is bitter, lost to chance,
(Silent parley, so it fell)
That I should still be me,
And still you know me well.

Hold me like it's sunset
And little shall we know,
How moments aim to spare,
And miss to overflow.