Pictorial Prose

Pictorial Prose
Indulging my most lucid daydreams

Monday, January 26, 2009

Cleaning out my desk..

Only for your ears> sings softly

Notes upon a paper are meaningless to me,written for young lovers they lack reality. I changed the tune, rewrote the verse,a love like ours not from this earth.
The heavens sent passing on every soft white cloud, an invitation darling for your soul to come on down. Some say there are many, I think but a few, but I can tell you sweetheart I know the love of two.
Only you know how I feel inside and where the words come from, not only from the mind. My hands a tool, my heart the gate, my soul the writer from which the words are made.
Pages of old gently crumble, fading in the hand,but you my darling are forever, the memories in the sand. Step by step we travel, gently making new, for I am ever so lucky to have the love of you.


Mark said...

This is one of your best writings. You spoke to my soul and for now I am refreshed in the way that a nomad is refreshed at the finding of an oasis.

Rachel C Miller said...

Ty that is such a beautiful response.