Thread of Remembering

In keeping with an apparent thread
of remembering or forgetting,
I offer a sonnet written long ago ...

faucon

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REMEMBRANCE

There is a time, my love, that I remember well;
Thoughts that I caress and hold to swelling heart.
I laugh out loud; eyes close shut and arms wide apart
To clasp a memory of which I often tell.

Yet I know that mem'ry often diffuses fact,
To protect fragile ego over shifting time.
Our love did not seem real then, somehow more sublime.
Actions were not reasoned well, we simply did react.

Now I must question if I recall actual love
Or simply do invent soft thoughts of joy and bliss?
Was it myself I loved but sought not to ever miss
A chance to find myself in answer from above?

Do I wish to remember well, or perhaps forget
That what should bring joyful thought often gives regret.