I Express Myself Through Writing

Feeling somebody's soul from so far away,
A connection so clear but it seems to have gently faded away,

Time takes its toll on people who seem to never forget,
Another soul we feel we owe a priceless huge debt,

Why does time and distance give pain to those who genuinely feel,
Who need to be real, to be understood, to be loved and just want to heal,

Down on my knees praying one day she will remember and call,
Once again give me some peace and help stop my fall,

Tomorrow is forever and hope never dies,
To all of us who can remember those who made us feel whole and even wise....

The pretense of circular reasoning paints the eyes
a misty shade of dull.
Eyes that view, from the dragon perch
of a counterclockwise carousel,
imagined scenery with a sprinkling of dreams.

A Gothic vision of crashing waves
against the grayish cliffs
that rise to a foggy grass clad plain
where sits the emblematic gabled home
with murder in the windows.

The calliope moans a dragging tune
to match it's steady spin.
the sound of wind through tarnished brass
archaic and unsettling, a broken drag
of whiny sounding notes in a symphony of impotence.

You seem to look and dress the part
of the person you portray;
feigning superficiality for acceptance in the world
I, myself, am not for a second fooled.
You are the very essence of substance and depth

The carousel comes to a gradual halt
a hesitant dismount;
back to your prison of practicality and need;
visions pass from ominous to pastoral tranquility
The eccentric dragon of blue and gold awaits your return.

Lovely.💓

Your writing is amazing. So vivid and evocative.

Is it you...? [Insert sound of wind]

An angel whispering to you👼

again .................................beautiful.

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