.
Losing ourselves in scents of Springs incandescent purple leaves
On terraformed paths dancing with a fragile stealth of w o r d s
Playing with a wealth of worlds we t h o u g h t
Perhaps our l o v e was becoming real enough to steal
(Us) from past m i s s t e p s once taken in Hazard's pay . . .
These days seem to hear a ghostly voice while fast asleep
Is that you?
She is singing softly as a whisper in a vision in a cell of Will
"I am here, and here to stay, some may never get away."
In moments of waking now and then above breaking waves of Light
Free from Hope and Dreams
Bathing in Perception of the Price of Sacrifice
Perhaps you f l y somewhere alone up there
Where no one sees, hidden fast, safe in your b l i n d
When your soul is shining like a beautiful kind battle shield
Reflecting a wisdom of spirit from which all Heaven streams
In cold of morning of arctic sunlight
In paradise notes of tropic midnights
Remember when we w a l k e d t h r o u g h d r e a m s . . .
Poetry by Chaucer Whethers
Read 982 times
Written on 2015-07-19 at 12:34
Save as a bookmark (requires login)
Write a comment (requires login)
Send as email (requires login)
Print text
When We Walked
Remember when we w a l k e d t h r o u g h d r e a m sLosing ourselves in scents of Springs incandescent purple leaves
On terraformed paths dancing with a fragile stealth of w o r d s
Playing with a wealth of worlds we t h o u g h t
Perhaps our l o v e was becoming real enough to steal
(Us) from past m i s s t e p s once taken in Hazard's pay . . .
These days seem to hear a ghostly voice while fast asleep
Is that you?
She is singing softly as a whisper in a vision in a cell of Will
"I am here, and here to stay, some may never get away."
In moments of waking now and then above breaking waves of Light
Free from Hope and Dreams
Bathing in Perception of the Price of Sacrifice
Perhaps you f l y somewhere alone up there
Where no one sees, hidden fast, safe in your b l i n d
When your soul is shining like a beautiful kind battle shield
Reflecting a wisdom of spirit from which all Heaven streams
In cold of morning of arctic sunlight
In paradise notes of tropic midnights
Remember when we w a l k e d t h r o u g h d r e a m s . . .
Poetry by Chaucer Whethers
Read 982 times
Written on 2015-07-19 at 12:34
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
|
Jamsbo Rockda |
