New beginnings are to be chased.
By determination never to rest.
Sitting askew on a bare hillside.
Empty of life where once
contentment resided.
Full of tiny life of another kind.
This tiny life can never grasp the
fulfillment of dreams long past.
Once proudly new in a brave world.
Once many skies of past seasons.
Wheeled over its pointed crown.
Once new to the experience of a
bonded union.
Once each moment was filled with
the joy of small wonders.
When the small wonders grew to
conquer the world.
Those that once resided within.
Moved to a land that was more
of a comfort in winter.
An old friend sits empty, no longer
useful.
Never to be lived in again.
Sitting, its allurement long past.
Slowly time picking apart.
The bonds that once held it
together.
Forgotten, on the bare hillside.
At a distant time it will be looked
upon again.
Only to be tumbled down, carted
away.
For a fresher look created by the
small wonders that once resided
within this old friend.
Time is harsh to those patient for
a new beginning.
New beginnings never come
when you sit without mobility.
Only to tumble in a swift end.
New beginnings are to be chased.
By determination never to rest
Empty of life.
The heart must chase and grasp
each moment.
For each moment is fleeing towards
the end.
For at the end there is no wishing
back the lost moments.
Read my book of poetry The Greatest Treasure by Amy Romaine Buchanan published by iUniverse.com
Poetry by Amy Buchanan
Read 613 times
Written on 2006-08-27 at 04:16
Tags Life
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Print text
By determination never to rest.
Empty of Life
Sitting askew on a bare hillside.
Empty of life where once
contentment resided.
Full of tiny life of another kind.
This tiny life can never grasp the
fulfillment of dreams long past.
Once proudly new in a brave world.
Once many skies of past seasons.
Wheeled over its pointed crown.
Once new to the experience of a
bonded union.
Once each moment was filled with
the joy of small wonders.
When the small wonders grew to
conquer the world.
Those that once resided within.
Moved to a land that was more
of a comfort in winter.
An old friend sits empty, no longer
useful.
Never to be lived in again.
Sitting, its allurement long past.
Slowly time picking apart.
The bonds that once held it
together.
Forgotten, on the bare hillside.
At a distant time it will be looked
upon again.
Only to be tumbled down, carted
away.
For a fresher look created by the
small wonders that once resided
within this old friend.
Time is harsh to those patient for
a new beginning.
New beginnings never come
when you sit without mobility.
Only to tumble in a swift end.
New beginnings are to be chased.
By determination never to rest
Empty of life.
The heart must chase and grasp
each moment.
For each moment is fleeing towards
the end.
For at the end there is no wishing
back the lost moments.
Read my book of poetry The Greatest Treasure by Amy Romaine Buchanan published by iUniverse.com
Poetry by Amy Buchanan
Read 613 times
Written on 2006-08-27 at 04:16
Tags Life
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
