| Mystic
morning dreams The dusky black curtain of night pulled back whispers the pale golden light of day two worlds sharing the same space purple mist the earth bathed with dew moist open light encroaches awakening golden fire burning surreal blanket of mist ride the silver bus floating up fading away warmth enveloping waiting for you. |
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to the rocking horse Sometimes when the mood is right and the sun hangs golden in the sky I remember moments of past innocence lost moments from a past long gone I close my eyes and I am in my room with its pink walls in my own world a world without war, and hunger ,and suffering a world only a child could live in a world I am reluctant to leave now older and wiser I remember all the good times I had with my dolls, my toys, my swingset my imagination was the fuel of those short, carefree years I look back on it and smile and sometimes when things look bad I wish I could go back there and curl up with one of my favorite dolls and forget all my troubles well, maybe someday... Desmond limerick I am free running alone and unconfined in the jungle part of me is still in the hatch |