Pictorial Prose

Pictorial Prose
Indulging my most lucid daydreams

Friday, March 22, 2013

Weary...

I saw the little blue bird magical as can be,
it sat upon the branch and it began to sing.

Spring time was nearing and winter stands
to fight, as the trees are in bud and the hills
are cast in a winter white.

My mind began to wander to the time of
yesterday and again to the present where
there were clouds dark and gray.

I tried to comprehend the ache inside of
me , as my heart holds to the moment
waiting on that first warm day of spring.

Time is again passing and yesterday is gone
and I stand tall against the storms to leave
them with a goodbye.

There is no replacing the dreams that
heaven holds, as I go about rejoicing,
I feel the restraints upon my soul.





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