about || info || writings || photography || credits || host || journal || current || archives ||
extras || links || friends || email || note || member of || previous || next || myspace

 

A poem is never finished, only abandoned.  ~Paul Val�ry
Poetry is an echo, asking a shadow to dance.  ~Carl Sandburg
Poetry is thoughts that breathe, and words that burn.  ~Thomas Gray
Poetry is not always words.  ~Audrey Foris
Poetry is the rhythmical creation of beauty in words.  ~Edgar Allan Poe

 

A Token
2003-12-11 - 7:27 p.m.
______________________________

I wish I were a bird

Fragile wings unbroken

Soaring high upon clouds of hope

The flight of dreams naught but a token..

A token of affection, a symbol of love

Floating past me on the wings of a dove..

I wish I were a bird

To be free as the air, to give not a care

Sights seen from miles above, noises cease to exist

I would fly far from here, and disappear into the mist...

I wish I were a bird

So fragile and free, not hardened by life

Not burdened by stones around my neck

I would travel so high and far

On the wings of a bird....

raw || truth
______________________________
Past Memories:

2006-01-13 - Fear In My Skin
2006-01-10 - The Moon - Our Silent Audience
2005-12-14 - Promise
2005-12-11 - Pure Bliss
2005-08-31 - In This Grave