Upon this swing
Within a whim,
And the barb
Where we once
Would play along.
When we fall
From heavens rhyme,
These dizzy frames,
We find some way
To be the same.
Within his language
Of youth and wisdom.
Between the warm
Pages of time.
Your thoughts settle
In a city of lost letters.
As life kisses you
With a her eyes.
Your inner child speaks to me
From a time we’ll never know,
From a far away moment
Let from a God’s stolen bow.
“…Collapse with me
Beyond films of certainty.
There is nothing to forget,
Oh the moments not yet met!”
“Let us go where we haven’t been,
Somewhere not alone.
And far is a lovely place.
…a place between far and home.”
You are a temple for lost souls,
Who seek not scripture but rest.
For your doors are never closed
And spring runs childishly about.
And when the harsh winds of winter
Come bellowing from the North,
They are tempered in their shame,
Settling in their youth, beneath your eyes.
Life will not find your secret,
As she is blind to her self.
Though time will remember your refuge,
And forever find you, his rest.
There is a warmth in memory
Of which I will not spare thee
Be it then or what follows
The former and its fathers
I think I wouldn’t let her go
How oft we find that witch to hold…
Amongst the heavens,
Space between my emotions,
Passes just slower.
Death lets a quivering breath
As he approaches my Love,
Shamefully taking her by the hand.
For even he is servant to time,
And time… has fallen into my Love
When a day was just like so
And made still of stubborn crow,
I had thoughts I couldnt lose,
So they say of summer blues.
I then set out to find a friend
Out where our pastures end
And I found him where he stayed
Neath the oak that even’n swayed.
Where our younger days would walk
There wed have time taken talk,
There our thoughts met our dreams,
There they fell, lost by no means.