Pictorial Prose

Pictorial Prose
Indulging my most lucid daydreams

Saturday, December 17, 2005

Distant

Where the hills meet the sky and wild birds fly.
Where song the heavens play, let your heart listen
close to the sounds of joy, to you my serenade.
~
My love I gave, my dreams enslaved, hold close
the days long gone. As new as fallen snow and
delicate as orchids grow is the fragile soul of mine.
~
Hungers sweet embrace , to hold in place
what memories thou restores. Sweet butter a melt
the stories tell of that which runs through time

Hold close to me my thoughts and dreams,
till spring has crest once more. There is
no letting go what life set to sow. The joy
a part of me.

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