Post by lane on May 24, 2012 22:30:00 GMT -5
I call this little writes statements, things at the end of a day or during the day.
Come closer,
do you think of me
in your Winter rains,
grays touch the ocean.
Come sit,
my hands are warm
merely empty.
I reminisce,
incidental moments
remind me....you too?
the paths we walked are the same I`m sure,
void of our impressions.
Do you think of me
when the rains fall?
it`s been so long...
Well better go,
rain is passing.
Thought you might like to know
I think of you..
Rain is that way sometimes.
===============
write [2]
The wood has grayed
many years of weather,
fighting Winter, July boils,
and the rain.
Comfort on the old back-steps
twisted some, but sturdy.
Dark clouds move across
lighter shades,
or is it the world moving around
charcoal splashes.
Rain..doesn`t it seem searing at times.
I fought the day to bring me here,
the cold minutes spent alone...
no one to watch the rain.
"question my abilities..never my heart"
© Copyright 2011 Vincent
===============
Come closer,
do you think of me
in your Winter rains,
grays touch the ocean.
Come sit,
my hands are warm
merely empty.
I reminisce,
incidental moments
remind me....you too?
the paths we walked are the same I`m sure,
void of our impressions.
Do you think of me
when the rains fall?
it`s been so long...
Well better go,
rain is passing.
Thought you might like to know
I think of you..
Rain is that way sometimes.
===============
write [2]
The wood has grayed
many years of weather,
fighting Winter, July boils,
and the rain.
Comfort on the old back-steps
twisted some, but sturdy.
Dark clouds move across
lighter shades,
or is it the world moving around
charcoal splashes.
Rain..doesn`t it seem searing at times.
I fought the day to bring me here,
the cold minutes spent alone...
no one to watch the rain.
"question my abilities..never my heart"
© Copyright 2011 Vincent
===============
