Memories in a Bottle

Memories captured in a bottle,

Corked and left on a shelf,

Time long ago,

A different self,

A life a go,

How one changed,

Following a new path,

Chasing a dream,

Walking on blades of green,

Counting every one,

Scorched a bridge,

Over the stream,

A rainbows arch,

To pastures green,

To bask in the sun,

And day dream......

Star Gazing

To look at the stars,

In the middle of the night,

Way up high shining bright,

To join them with an invisible line,

Looking at the signs,

To predict your future,

Hoping the predictions are kind,

To guide your way,

Knowing that it depends on your birthday,

A time and a place,

With planets rising,

As time goes forward,

Age advances,

With a future unknown,

Drawing lines,

Trusting signs,

The River Bank

River Bank of The Dart

 

To stroll on the banks of the river Dart,

Following the flow from where it starts,

To trample on the sodden ground,

Some luscious green another of muddy brown,

To follow the meandering flow to the estuary's mouth,

Where the river meets the sea,

Over looked by a castle on a hill,

That sentry fort of long ago, 

The POEM

A poet of verse,

Sentences to be read,

A creation of words,

Born in the head,

Emotions described,

In a way,

Connects to a soul,

In a special way,

Romance or loss,

Heart break and love,

Unites everyone,

In a special way,

Day by day,

A year goes by,

That special poem,

Will survive,

To take a memory,

To a time and place,

From where we have come,

To what we have become.....

Standing On The Seashore

Standing on the seashore,

Grains of sand,

Between the toes,

Looking at the horizon,

Growing old,

Grains washed away,

By the tides everyday,

Morning glory,

A warming sun,

Another story,

Has just begun,

At the days end,

The moon arrives,

Size dictated by the tides,

The stars do shine,

To guide the way,

The seasons come,

The season go,

Everyday growing old,

Until that day, 

When those foot prints,

Get washed away......

 

As Cold as Stone

As cold as stone,

Alone,

Carved and chiselled,

Weathered by the storms,

No blood flows,

But the scars are there,

From the impact,

Of the words,

Opinions,

Views,

In a place of solitude,

Sanctuary,

This place will do,

To stand guard,

A sentry to a heart,

Protector to a soul,

  

That Broken Family Tree

Branches torn from the tree,

Gone on the path of their destiny ,

The trunk remains on its own,

Years are shown by the rings that grow,

Through the seasons the tree does stand,

Strong after weathering the storm,

The bark is scarred where the branches broke,

A memory of what was lost,

In summer time the tree does bloom,

With leaves of green,

How they shine,

Attracting birds with its grace,

A loyal and trusted resting place,

In autumns fall,

Some leaves do shed,

Like falling tears,

The tree lay bare,

An image of that lonesome tree,

Magnificent in its beauty 

The Ancient English Oak it truly be,