short poems (round 4) (old notebooks)

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
the last of the short poems. enjoy!

Submitted: July 20, 2011

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Submitted: July 20, 2011



To touch the silky acres,

To harvest unknown fruit

Of a hidden land imagined.


To gather all about me,

To mingle in the senses

Of a hidden land's delight.


I like the sound of the flowing water

When it slips by in the river.

I like the sound of a winter breeze

When it rustles through the trees.

I like them better when I'm with you

Exploring at our ease.


My mind is not connecting,

The pieces don't quite fit.

I find I need correcting

Just to make some sense of it.


The fog is getting thicker,

I'm apt to drift away.

The emptiness is quicker,

Hard to keep the hounds at bay.


Once again I stumble

Fairly tumble

Roll and bumble

Down the road.


Watch me as I'm humbled

Justly crumbled

Grisely mumbled

From my dreams.


I walk along a road at night

To be alone and think,

To try to soak up what just might

Be possible with you.


If I walk along this road,

Do I really think

That I can carry what I hold

While I stumble on the brink?


Darkness like a blanket

Awoke the mysteries

A sudden night of whispers

Like possibilities.


We held each other closer

Than we ever had before

I loved you in the darkness

More and more and more.


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