Somewhere in Time

Somewhere in time a nightingale sings,
Of life’s journey and the sadness it brings,
With wings so strong hope surely flies,
Through threatening clouds into clear skies,
The music plays softly on waves of thought,
Moving emotion is easily caught,
Held by a moment like a foaming crest,
Then gently brought down to earth and rest.

I see my second childhood beckoning,
To be counted in the final reckoning,
Waving a wand of youth so high,
The magic carries me beyond the sky,
A timeless horizon stretches through space,
Words weave a web like intricate lace,
Here is the home I’ll hold close to my heart,
And a journey’s end becomes a new start.

I will hear music wherever I go,
The rhythm of life beats time fast and slow,
The shadow dances of dark and light,
My words will echo with black on white,
Imagination brings colour to the scene,
I would have smiles mark where I have been,
Asked what would be my favourite hue,
I answer warm yellow on a pale true blue.

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I followed Guido’s recommendation and went to Regina’s journal.
I would also like to recommend it to anyone who likes poetry.

Pearl Diving

Image credit DOUGY

If I could learn to write in words you’ll understand,
Perhaps they might help you find your special way,
To gather personal strength; keep temptation’s trap at bay,
For whatever you are fighting offer a supporting hand,
Especially for those that I will never meet,
Struggling with the stresses of a busy modern life,
Feeling like some butter under a red hot knife,
Trying hard to cope; running from defeat.

If I could write the music I’ve seen, smelled, tasted and heard,
Touch your heart with warmth on the longest, coldest day,
Thoughts electrically running in loops might lead to a way,
That could draw you safely onward like a migrating bird,
Magnetic lines of force holding you, a shield against friction,
Destructive compulsions repelled, obstacles evaded,
Confusion for order, disarray for harmony traded,
My score would be a work of pure entertaining fiction.

The never ending thread of my imagination,
Weaving a melodic rhapsody around a simple theme,
Bringing laughter and delight with variations in a stream
Of notes held between lines in suspended animation,
My words would lie in wait to capture your unguarded thought,
Like morning dew on a spider’s web, pearls on lace,
Precious drops from the ocean of life, pathways retrace,
Not always what I’d wished for, not always what I’d sought.