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.
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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.
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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.
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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.

2 comments:

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.