The past remains a friend to me.
At times when stiffened hands are cold,
The days all numbered now are few.
Begin again my journey slowed.
Then steady hands did guide her swing,
She’d laugh and turn to look at me.
On walks she spoke of angels’ wings
And set my mind adrift.
For her my heart will cry aloud.
Then comes a soft melodic sound.
As treetop tenors swoon and sing,
In blackened plumes and tails
Millennia perfect the notes
That saves my soul distressing
Nature knows when we are broken
And gives our hearts caressing
Ok. An hour to spare in E.S.T.
I have found already that we must write with emotion or what we are emotional about. Yes this could use a bit of tweaking( sorry Bill) but it is raw emotion. Dedicated to my ex-old lady. It was not a lack of love that ended us. I love her still.
Anyway I think I know why I don't care much for poemage. It's all touchy feely stuff.
The following users say thank you to Forgewright for this useful post:Killerelite
If you made a touchy feely comment and it wasn't in the last 5 minutes then I forgot it already. Don't recall it. Or I was not affected by it. Just coincidence I guess.
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