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Scottish Highlands,CoffeeCrush,Musical Dreams

Saturday, September 29, 2007
Winds of the past
It was just glory sunshine,
In the broken pieces of a wind chime,
Of old traditional value,
No more valued,
Pretty glass beads fell to the floor,
The chime bells broke into bits no more,
While they picked the glittery hollows,
That jingled once in a deep mellow,
When the wind brushed on the hair of the fellow,
Who would pass by saying hello,
And asking how everything did go.

Today the wind changed its course,
And brushed with great force,
Killing my chime’s life course,
In a single fatal breezy blow,
I stood watching the pieces on the floor,
The blue glass broken into four,
Listening to the sound of banging doors,
Echoing in the woodlands and far ashore.

Fetching the wrecked pieces of the chime,
I felt tears dropping out my eyes,
It was the only thing I valued,
That had traditional value,
What it did bring with its jingling tune,
Were musical notes from my darling,
Who sang to keep me smiling,
Walking by streets strolling,
Waiting for the inviting,
Which I wouldn’t give away that easily,
Just to listen to him sing till eternity.

Today the wind changed its course,
And brushed with great force,
Killing my chime’s life course,
In a single fatal breezy blow,
I stood watching the pieces on the floor,
The blue glass broken into four,
Listening to the sound of banging doors,
Echoing in the woodlands and far ashore.
posted by bereaved vendetta @ 12:07 AM  
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Name: bereaved vendetta
About Me: Optically, subjectively, and figuratively: EQUIVALENT Focal plane....
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