Pictorial Prose

Pictorial Prose
Indulging my most lucid daydreams

Saturday, April 15, 2006

Hidden in the hills

Swinging on a rope of a old tire swing,
took me back to childhood dreams.

Swimming in the river, barge on by,
gulls in flight and Dobson flies.

Yesterday a story made, survival
of those early days.

Swinging on a rope of a old tire swing,
took me back to childhood dreams.....
~~~~
No longer Dormant is this season that I feel.
The blooms in life have away to make you heal.

I felt your love, I feel your love, I am your love,
hidden in the hills.
~~~~

If the heart of paper, then the scissors you command.
Snip and cut, snip and cut, confetti in your hands.

```
Can You?
Can you hear me calling in the darkness of the night?
When the sounds settle with silence and my heart feels a fight.
Can you feel my touch in the middle of the day?
Heart and soul embraced in the most amazing way.
Can you see me in the reflection of the moon?
The silhoutte entwined reflected of us two.
~~~~
I fear that never a tear shall dry.

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