The Seed Love in life comes and goes, How is anyone supposed to know? Where within the answers lie. Or are they in the tears we cry? All along we learn and grow, The more we�re taught the less we know. Just when we think we can survive, We�re struck a blow between the eyes. Is our fate our will at all? Or like the tall tree that falls. Crashing aimlessly to the ground, Never to make another sound. But wait, when some time has passed, Behold I see a sprout at last. With some help from up above, Pretty soon we call it love. by Cindy |
| These are just short poems and the like. Some written by me and some written in the earily 1930's by my mother, Rachel. I will add more as the mood strikes. |
| To You At Twilight At evening when the sun is low, When shadows lengthen into night. My thoughts go drifting to one I know. To one I want at twilight. I know you're dreaming too dear one, As you wait alone for me. For with the setting of the sun, I'll surely come to thee. Dreaming dreams of love, While the sun sinks out of sight. And stars come peeping up above, Just you and I at twilight. For a fleeting moment it's just you and me. In the quickly darkening night, A kiss,.... one or two or three. And then, once again, Goodbye... at twilight. by Rachel |
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| The Acorn
The perfect acorn plump and round, Sharp eyes watching as it hits the ground. Four little legs, tail in the air, Acorns next stop, is no telling where. Oh dear, can you see, There it goes up a tree. Through the branches, down again, Accross the creek, around the bend. Finally here we are at last, Little hands start digging fast. Yes indeed looks like to me, The perfect place to plant a tree by Cindy |
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| Sounds & Silence Off in the distance I hear a whistle blow. Echoing through the morning mist. Like a fog horn on a rocky shore. A lonely sad sound yet at the same time drawing me into a feeling of comfort and safety. A quiet piece comes over me. So strong I must hold back the tears that are burning my eyes. My mind starts to wonder. Like ones life passing before them. Wondering to days long ago. Places I've been, things I've seen and to places I'll never go. Life's unfinished dreams. The whistle blows again, closer now. Prehaps just around the bend. Louder and sharper, bringing my mind back into focus. Here she comes, leaning into the curve. Rocking like a a mighty giant in a hurricane. The whistle blows once more. She thunders past, I try to count the cars, but soon I can't keep up. And then she's gone. Like an electric current shooting through my veins. Leaving only the sizzleing sound of the rails. My pounding heart slows and once again I find myself straining to listen for another faint sound in the distance. by Cindy |
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