Sometimes I just think to much.
A little book of dreams,
Every thing I do and say,
And everything I've seen.
Have you ever wondered,
Why the water falls.
Or where the river banks,
I've pondered on that notion.
Is that why a babbling brook,
Babbles to much.
Or is it because,
It double crossed the ocean.
Then glancing upwards at daylight,
I've noticed stars don't burn so bright.
I've often wondered at their plight,
Is it because they've been up all night.
Sometimes during daylight too,
The sky doesn't seem too blue.
Is that because during the morning rush,
Someone forgot their paint brush,
Where does the sun go,
When its time for bed.
when it feel quite weary,
Where does it lay its head.
I say to someone out there,
With sun that burns so bright.
Could the last person leaving earth
Please turn out the light.
These thoughts through days unfold,
As the stories must be told.
This and more unravel in my mind,
Tell me, How will I ever find the time.
Poetry by Alan J Ripley
Read 228 times
Written on 2021-09-11 at 13:31
Save as a bookmark (requires login)
Write a comment (requires login)
Send as email (requires login)
Print text
BOOK OF DREAMS
I seem to carry about me.A little book of dreams,
Every thing I do and say,
And everything I've seen.
Have you ever wondered,
Why the water falls.
Or where the river banks,
I've pondered on that notion.
Is that why a babbling brook,
Babbles to much.
Or is it because,
It double crossed the ocean.
Then glancing upwards at daylight,
I've noticed stars don't burn so bright.
I've often wondered at their plight,
Is it because they've been up all night.
Sometimes during daylight too,
The sky doesn't seem too blue.
Is that because during the morning rush,
Someone forgot their paint brush,
Where does the sun go,
When its time for bed.
when it feel quite weary,
Where does it lay its head.
I say to someone out there,
With sun that burns so bright.
Could the last person leaving earth
Please turn out the light.
These thoughts through days unfold,
As the stories must be told.
This and more unravel in my mind,
Tell me, How will I ever find the time.
Poetry by Alan J Ripley
Read 228 times
Written on 2021-09-11 at 13:31
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
