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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Poems

A fictional look at a time long, long, ago. And being long past.

Submitted: November 17, 2016

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Submitted: November 17, 2016



I have seen him on the bridge

By the river

And in the fields freshly tilled

I saw him there.

I know he drinks the dew

Of morning's mist

And the creatures bring him food

They want to share.


Those creatures crowd around him

In the evening

And the birds bring him kindling

For his fire.

He tells them of the place

That he once lived,

The land where angels gather,



I have seen him paint the clouds

With fiery colors

In evening's gentle moments,

At twilight time,

Then he calls to the moon,

"Come light my way."

And he sings a haunting song,

Void of rhyme.


He sings mournful songs

Void of meaning

They are tunes from that place

Called Wilder-shire.

He cries to understand

And asks the question.

"Where went those wondrous tunes

To the songs that took me higher?"


So now he lives among

The likes of man,

But avoids the hint of contact

With them all.

He searches for the answer

To another question;

"Does heaven make a sound

When angle's fall?"



JE Falcon


rew. 03-2018

© Copyright 2019 JE Falcon. All rights reserved.

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