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There comes a teary
silence ~ between
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“The best laid schemes o’ mice and men
Gang aft agley”
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For we never forgot the sights and the sounds
or the smells of the circus when it comes to our town ...
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Then there’s the art
that comes from somewhere ...
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How frequently we find in life,
those highways that are closed -
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Over the river and through darkened woods
Grandma is cooking our Thanksgiving food -
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Don’t waste your time when in your prime
And please ‘stop counting sheep.’ ...
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We re-create what undermines,
Take down the fence that oft’ confines ...
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SOS! - Where’s the life boat of writing?
Sink or swim is what most would suggest ...
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When prudence comes, be sure to catch her eye,
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The journeys of the heart - a chart of will,
Through wilderness of ways we do not know ...
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Long days I dreamed of your embrace
With mind replete - a state of grace ...
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Volumes of distinctive treasure
Spread like carpets for our mind ...
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He arrives on each scene with his one optic nerve
And it’s backed by that last wisdom tooth ...
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Bathed with the knowledge
this light’s shown before ...
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My distant memory calls to mind the times when as a child
The fruits of all your labors hung like ornaments of wild ...
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Enigma’s chance to try once more
to place a foot through half-closed door ...
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How is it that art,
seeks out a heart ...
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I sense your presence long before I see you with my eyes,
Your essence drifts forevermore like dreams and changing tides ...
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a trial to name that form;
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How oft’ we wander lonely space,
burdened down by worn-out dreams.
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It’s eccentric but quite the relation,
For which there is not one equation ...
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She’ll cast bright light on trees ablaze, now shedding Summer’s heat
And standing guard the pumpkin patch the scarecrows eyes she’ll greet
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Through that night and into morning
raging winds howled out their warning ...
by waydownuponjoy
33 lines, 10 comments,
on Oct 14 5:53 AM. In Contest, Creative, Feelings, Imagery, Memories, Personal, Poetic, Sad, Thoughts
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so I am left to fill that space
the truth I share … I’m blessed with grace!
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And now September’s leaves transpose,
Immortal still - the changing moon.
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Relax ... life can smile!
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point being ~ too early or too late?
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I sense the beauty of your shyness,
the way you seem to understand our silent sharing ...
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I wake from sweet dreams ~ mind’s eye melts the moon,
Stars wink heaven’s code to the sun.
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Together they made such a lovely pair
The bee to the blossom - so debonair ...
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Austerity for posterity ...
If the soul and the heart feel at home ... ... ...
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