would you ?

​

would you ?

would you walk with me through serene fields of green,

beneath the canopy of unseen night,

where yearning aches,

in the shimmer

of moonlight.

would you take my hand so we may disappear,

finding each other

in pastel shades,

so very far away from the here.

would you lay your heart,

to rest

beside mine,

          sharing

smiles

         tears,

                  reflections

         fears,

                  aches

           joys

                  sorrows.

together,

cocooned,

rested,

in landscapes etched and sketched,

embossed,

absorbed into a cardamom mosaic

of shared tomorrows.

would you wander these clouds of dreams?

bathed in rain-drenched kisses,

soaring across the seas,

             dancing

hopping

              afloat,

together in cinnamon waters,

sharing this lifes myriad streams.

would you ?

we get on by

we get on by.

through half-dreamed emotions, the tears and the laughter of years in between, find their way back to settle in our souls, to coax hope out of despair, to try to keep it all together, as we get on by.

nothing fills the void of restless desolation, more than memories floating on the wind, dandelion seeds scattered hither and thither, seeing at last the impermanence of this fragile life, as we get on by.

hidden in the folds of joy and of sorrow, fate often flits past, its brushstrokes lingering on the mosaic of our lives, leaving traces of colour, as we get on by.

the hammer of time bangs incessantly on, as we walk, as we talk, as we love, and as we dance in the spring rains, not a care in the world for those fleeting moments, and though we travel, we get on by.

we stare at our reflections in the mirror, age carving lines on our worn faces, where did all those years go, trickling down the sieve of time, leaving us to walk on, as we get on by.

looking back through the willowy mist, we all share our pocketful of regrets, things we could have said, things that should have remained unsaid, dreams unfulfilled, knocking on the door, urging us to let them in, and it may just be, that in those moments, we clutch onto hope,

and it is hope that perhaps, keeps us dreaming,

these gentle dreams we dream,

as we get on by …

Tread Lightly

​

Tread Lightly.

Tread lightly, for many hearts lay strewn upon these roads,

alone, their plaintive calls heard by none,

just the birds whose doleful odes sing out in the dawn skies.

The world sleeps, the daily grind yet to begin,

when polished shoes shall trample those lonesome hearts,

that lay on roads where garbage trucks rid the new day of yesterday’s memories,

where leaves and crushed petals are swept aside,

and tattered hearts, alone again, creep into corners to hide.