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| I watch the dance and hear the song, the march of hours does carry on, the colored lights the amber twinkling glow, another Christmas is here, I know. I hear the sounds of wind and rain, in my mind a memory does remain, the house will shake as the thunder cracks, instantly it will take me back, in time. We bought a picture of paradise, a place for us to fantasize, about a dreamers perfect happy life we hung it up on our wall, to symbolize our love for all, in nature. Whatever it is in our memory, that makes us yearn for our destiny, to touch things of which we know our fingers grope for familiarity, softly caressing lifes ebb and flow, our peace. |
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A winters day and far away gone so long forever stay feelings of so long ago tomorrows joys move so slow, wishing for just one more another chance before you go, to an end or shining goal never time for even score. Luck or chance plans design thoughts and dreams fill up the mind. Lifetime or briefity another chance an endless sea. Looking out beyond whats me to the rest of eternity. |
Slowly, ever so slowly once again the soft free fall of autumn rain off nature's outstretched fingertips cascading melody becomes staccoto refrain. |
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Can't touch that part of me the very heart of me where secrets lie. Silence full of special meaning golden or so it's seeming trapped secrets die. Spoken words cut short by time no response to mine lost secrets fly. |
There is truth in poetry..... Best to write about honest feelings.... Poetry is an excursion into past present and future...... Without personal experience you are meerly rearranging words from the dictionary |
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Clouds in both the mind and sky |
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