Monday, 13 October 2008

A Sting in the Tale

Nettles prepare to flower, tall and high,
Feathery fronds dance their way to the sky
As if defending themselves whatever the cost,
So their way of life should not be lost,
It would seem to me that I stand alone,
Fighting a lost battle, my heart turning to stone.
Shadows like many things pass unheard,
Unless they copy the song of a small brown bird,
Words written in black would try to wake
Colour within this white page for love’s sake.
The silence of night passes and I rise again,
The challenge of a new day wipes away any gain,
I must find a different path to dance along,
New thoughts determining the words of a song
That I will sing to drown the repeated cries
From deep within my mind where despair lies.
Bring on the trumpeter for the dawn,
Let him play loudly his farmyard horn,
Bring on the chorus to greet the new day,
Let them all sing in their own special way.
I demand my thoughts stay to stand and deliver,
Then run for their life like a fast flowing river
On a never ending race, ever onward home
Into the deep ocean where memories roam,
Where I will sail any time that I choose,
Not one of any worth shall I ever lose.
What is madness but this short life of ours?
That takes our youth with all its’ powers,
Burdens it with stress beyond belief,
Ending brave dreams, bringing new grief.

1 comment:

ADB said...

It does not matter where you blog, Liz, you do write beautifully.