|
Post by keith on Jun 3, 2021 4:49:19 GMT -5
The old man sat and smoked his pipe
While pondering upon life’s woes,
His aches and pains, losses and gains
And where the rambling river goes,
While in a clearing in the wood
A daisy smiled towards the sky,
No need to question life’s refrain
No need to wonder where or why.
And from a branch above the world
Came sweet birdsong of pure delight,
That tinkled like a xylophone
As daytime turned to scattered night,
Where sunlight turned to shades of grey
That wandered through the twilight’s hues
In sombre dreams of vague disdain
Forsaking daylight’s golds and blues.
Against his tree the old man slept
And dreamed of all that he had craved,
Of all the things he’d overlooked
And all the memories he had saved,
While somewhere in the shadowed boughs
A whispered Prayer came drifting through
In answer to his question dreams
Of all the things he’d still to do.
And he stood up beneath the moon
Then stretched his arms toward the sky,
Somehow he’d felt his dreams come true
Yet had no need to wonder why,
He walked like mist along the path
Towards another bridge of sighs
Where once before he’d cast his petals
When she still lived within his eyes…
|
|
|
Post by nanaursula on Jun 3, 2021 12:10:44 GMT -5
Such an awesome, profound and wonderful story, perfectly presented in your very own rhyme and magical description. Your poem leaves echoes, Keith and keeps thoughts lingering on, thank you. Blessings, Ursula xx
|
|
|
Post by Sharon on Jun 3, 2021 17:52:38 GMT -5
enjoyed your exquisitely written poem
for the post
|
|
|
Post by Tamika on Jun 8, 2021 19:53:14 GMT -5
wonderfully done Keith
|
|
|
Post by Lisa Arnold on Jun 9, 2021 17:12:16 GMT -5
beautifully crafted piece that I most enjoyed
thanks for the post
|
|