All to Myself Poem

All to myself I find the way, back to each golden yesterday,
Faring in fancy until I stand, clasping your ready, friendly hand,
The picture seems half true, half dream, and I keep its color and its gleam,
all to myself.
All to myself I hum again, fragments of some old time refrain,
something that comes at fancy's choice, and I hear the cadence of your voice,
sometimes tis dim, sometimes tis clear, but I keep the music that I hear,
all to myself.
All to myself I hold and know, all of the days of long ago,
wonderful days when you and I, owned all the sunshine in the sky,
the days come back as the old days will, and I keep their tingle and their thrill,
all to myself.
all to myself, my friend, do you count all the memories softly too?
summer and autumn, winter, spring, the hopes we cherish and everything?
They course my veins as a draft divine, and I keep them wholly, soley mine,
all to myself.
All to myself I think of you, think of things we used to do,
think of the things we used to say, think of each happy, bygone day,
sometimes I sigh, and sometimes I smile, but I keep each olden, golden while,
all to myself.
Wilber Dick Nesbit