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Magnus

Member Laureate

since 2001-10-10

Posts 14135
South Carolina, USA

0 posted 2004-02-20 08:30 PM

Strange, how we sense, how we know
when a pasture lies dead upon the
earth.

When the last cow has crossed the threshold
before the wooden gate closes and...like
cattle we plod blindly into the next curve
before the earth falls away from our footsteps
once dancing from star to star.

Stars once gleamed as candles burned lazily
upon the wooden hearth, as love lay silently,
awaiting winter’s warming kiss.

Now...the flame burns meekly, wishing
to glow brightly amongst the youth filing
rapidly past...into another era and time.
For what was is but a dream which has
passed and gone.

Lie me still upon the meadow, lightly brush
the tear from a cheek once soft, now weathered
and sun worn. Hold my hand, feel the faint
ripple of passion from my heart....treasure it,
as I treasure a moment....for a lifetime ... for
I am nigh...nigh to being there....as a dream
peels a smile from lips which have tasted
fine wine...

ThisDiamond
Member Rara Avis

since 2002-02-22

Posts 9353
Michigan, USA

1 posted 2004-02-20 08:39 PM

When the heart sings sad songs, the melody lingers in a forever watch...
That's what friends do.
Another beautiful write from you.
TD

Grover
Senior Member

since 2004-01-27

Posts 1967
London, ON, Canada

2 posted 2004-02-20 08:45 PM

Very good, "Lie me still upon the meadow, lightly brush
the tear from a cheek once soft, now weathered
and sun worn." Beautiful! Grover.

Enchantress
Member Empyrean

since 2001-08-14

Posts 35113
Canada eh.

3 posted 2004-02-20 09:30 PM

"Lie me still upon the meadow, lightly brush
the tear from a cheek once soft, now weathered
and sun worn. Hold my hand, feel the faint
ripple of passion from my heart....treasure it,
as I treasure a moment....for a lifetime"

Barry...you know what that sound was you just heard coming from Canada!

Excellent sigh maker m'friend.
Hugs~

  ~ Whatever our souls are made of,
      his and mine are the same. ~

Seymour Tabin
Member Empyrean

since 1999-07-07

Posts 31720
Tamarac Fla

4 posted 2004-02-20 10:15 PM

Magnus
In other words, "out out brief candle lifes but a walking shadow a poor player that struts and frets his hour upon the stage and then is heard no more T'is a tale told by an idiot full of sound and fury signifing nothing." Good write my friend.

Greeneyes

Member Rara Avis

since 2000-09-09

Posts 9903
In Your Poetic Mind

5 posted 2004-02-20 10:44 PM

outstanding write Barry~
wonderfully done!

~~**~~
There are moments when speech
is but a mouth pressed lightly and
humbly against the angel's hands.

passing shadows
Member Empyrean

since 1999-08-26

Posts 45577
displaced

6 posted 2004-02-20 11:20 PM

that last stanza...sigh

such joy in remembering the beginning when you are at the end

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