Lost in thought
Pour my soul upon a paper,
Paint my heart as if a picture.
Some may view and others blind
Can you hear the shouts I whisper?
Canít pour enough to paint
The picture of my life
ĎCause the canvas back is cracking
And my hands are getting tight.
And Iíll saddle up my horses
ĎCause I donít really want to roam.
And my faith assures me always
My picture ends at Home.
But I pour in pastel bases,
And a watercolor flare.
I dip the feathery plume in blue;
To paint a portrait of the air.
The words depict a lifetime;
And the life shows my belief.
The colors deep yet subtle;
Will be final in relief.
Iím ready to be taken up,
To see the view complete.
And once Iím there
Iíll write a picture
Of shining, golden, streets.
(annother sleepless night's creation)
- And so it was that time stood still -
(blink, breathe, stand, fight)
[This message has been edited by GG (12-31-2002 08:27 AM).]