Is home somewhere you come from, or somewhere you’re going to?
My own perspective bounces back and forth on this.
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Montanaman · M
@Grateful4you
When i witnessed this, in France, for some odd reason, it felt like home.
The eternal war
Of sea against shore,
Raged on-
Holding no quarter.
Earth and stone, grinding away,
Blood and bone, decadent decay.
Dancing Girls-
Sharing secrets, flesh against flesh.
As the girls danced-
Under the bright moonlight,
They were something to behold-
Oh, they were a sight.
Dancing Girls-
Holding each other tight.
Throwing care to the wind,
Dancing past the waltz's end.
Onlookers stop and stare-
Oh, how they gossip and drool,
Whisperers a knife in their back,
How can people be so cruel.
But the girls
Just kept on dancing on-
Not caring to ever look back,
Forever entwined, beauty untouched.
They shared their passion with the crescendo-
Of the wind, and the sea, with the moon, and the stars,
The musicians recognized their beauty-
And they joined in with their guitars.
The crowd of people thinned out,
And very soon, they were gone.
Leaving the girls alone-
Alone in their trance,
Alone to their dance-
As the eternal war
Of sea against shore,
Raged on.
-Kelly.
When i witnessed this, in France, for some odd reason, it felt like home.
The eternal war
Of sea against shore,
Raged on-
Holding no quarter.
Earth and stone, grinding away,
Blood and bone, decadent decay.
Dancing Girls-
Sharing secrets, flesh against flesh.
As the girls danced-
Under the bright moonlight,
They were something to behold-
Oh, they were a sight.
Dancing Girls-
Holding each other tight.
Throwing care to the wind,
Dancing past the waltz's end.
Onlookers stop and stare-
Oh, how they gossip and drool,
Whisperers a knife in their back,
How can people be so cruel.
But the girls
Just kept on dancing on-
Not caring to ever look back,
Forever entwined, beauty untouched.
They shared their passion with the crescendo-
Of the wind, and the sea, with the moon, and the stars,
The musicians recognized their beauty-
And they joined in with their guitars.
The crowd of people thinned out,
And very soon, they were gone.
Leaving the girls alone-
Alone in their trance,
Alone to their dance-
As the eternal war
Of sea against shore,
Raged on.
-Kelly.
Grateful4you · M
@Montanaman That is hauntingly beautiful. The idea of being seaside is one visual of "home" the other is a re-occuring dream. Ironically almost identical to a scene from "Close Encounters of the third kind" I'm playing in our driveway, mom comes to the back door and is frantically calling me in while looking toward the sky. I point up to the sky and happily in a shrill little boys voice holler..."Toys"...
Grateful4you · M
Freeranger · M
Home for me is sanctuary. Something I totally built out of a dead end country dirt road. It is my total physical and mental balm, and I revel in it's isolation. And when I leave it's confines, I can be at an Atlantic sea in 20 minutes or so where......it's power turns the whole affair in to something restless and sensual.
I'm so thankful that, I live in this setting.....far from cities and their ability to white out through it's lights a night sky. The country.......the sea, are two mutually gratifying caresses that are the best type of mental sex in history. You can take that to the bank.
I'm so thankful that, I live in this setting.....far from cities and their ability to white out through it's lights a night sky. The country.......the sea, are two mutually gratifying caresses that are the best type of mental sex in history. You can take that to the bank.
Montanaman · M
REMsleep · 41-45, F
Home is where the heart is