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Open Poetry #12
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Heartstarter
Junior Member
since 2001-03-14
Posts 39


0 posted 2001-03-17 01:58 PM



I got myself lost late last night
walking home a different way;
What prompted me to walk so far
I really couldn't say,
prehaps the chill the rabbit left
while dancing on my grave.
I walked until the light stood still
while I strode on beyond it,
I walked until my winding street
turned suddenly symetric,
I walked and listened to my reason
tell my logic not to sweat it.
I walked until my straightaway
predictably diverted,
I stopped my mindless feet at last,
perplexed and disconcerted;
I gazed in wide eyed weariness
at two roads that looked deserted.
I stood and looked at those two roads
considering what to do,
I had walked into my choices
without a single clue,
and I sensed that some decision
was long since overdue.
I looked left and I looked right,
I looked around behind me;
I hoped if I looked long enough
the calvary would find me,
and as I thought all hope was lost,
this voice spoke up beside me.
She said she walked a ways with me,
and that I never knew it;
She said I'd come the farthest yet,
and she hoped that I could do it,
But both the roads beyond were rough,
and most before me blew it.
She whispered that it broke the rules,
but she had a clue to lend,
she told me to listen with my heart
so I might comprehend;
That I must start from the beginning
to appreciate the end.
I turned towards the voice beside me,
to find I was alone,
somewhere between the word and the thought
she had managed to be gone.
So I took her advice and turned around
and walked myself back home.

© Copyright 2001 Heartstarter - All Rights Reserved
walker
Member Elite
since 2001-02-11
Posts 2240
Florida
1 posted 2001-03-17 02:33 PM


We should always listen to that inner voice. Well done and enjoyed!

A quarter of a century must pass, for the writer to understand what and why he writes.

Joyce Johnson
Deputy Moderator 1 TourDeputy Moderator 1 Tour
Member Rara Avis
since 2001-03-10
Posts 9912
Washington State
2 posted 2001-03-17 02:46 PM


This is wonderful. Worth reading again and again. Love Joyce
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