Monday, April 14. 2014
back to the buckler
a line of tops and valleys
a newborn sun next to the rain
so many memories resought
a tiny village in a tale
the stones were sort of fawny
so dry in paint, along the water
those tawny patches along the rims
the river driven by its youth
the gras was so much younger, then
a nightly fire, some fish on coal
another dreamy dream revived
again before we'd dreamt it
we'd sold the buckler to the stars
when on the way towards that place
and home again without a stop
with bated breath
what peaceful haven, surely
as long as still recalled
with so much laughter left
when dearly loved
yes, such a good time, all in all
and really worth it, though
you wouldn't know
you weren't really there
© 2014
a newborn sun next to the rain
so many memories resought
a tiny village in a tale
the stones were sort of fawny
so dry in paint, along the water
those tawny patches along the rims
the river driven by its youth
the gras was so much younger, then
a nightly fire, some fish on coal
another dreamy dream revived
again before we'd dreamt it
we'd sold the buckler to the stars
when on the way towards that place
and home again without a stop
with bated breath
what peaceful haven, surely
as long as still recalled
with so much laughter left
when dearly loved
yes, such a good time, all in all
and really worth it, though
you wouldn't know
you weren't really there
© 2014
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