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Open Poetry #38
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| Open Poetry #38 |
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Musings |
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Walter_Mitty_Esq Junior Member
since 2006-06-01
Posts 21 |
On this dark, dismal day Looking for rusted, brown hinges that I want adorned I hear voices trying to reach me from a distance But I sit tight, head bent, my mind scanning the flow of words There's a sudden urge to stop thinking And let my fingers play the music of words. The mess of papers scattered all around me Reminds me of the time when I sat with my feet in the water Threw pebbles in the river and watched them sink with slow, soft ripples Felt in my hands the smooth texture of a stone worn out by time And wondered if that was me in that tiny little stone, frozen forever. Moments find strange ways to seep into memories Yellow memories. |
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| © Copyright 2006 Walter_Mitty_Esq - All Rights Reserved | |||
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LeeJ Member Patricius
since 2003-06-19
Posts 13296 |
Walter, I loved the feel of this, which zapped me right there beside you...so descriptive, so profound, so atuned to a moment in thought.... marvelous read...thank you |
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Walter_Mitty_Esq Junior Member
since 2006-06-01
Posts 21 |
Thank you, Leej. A little heads-up goes a long way. |
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