Most of the time, when I write, it's to keep track of where I am. Some things you wish you hadn't written. Some things surprise you with a clarity that was forgotten in a moment long past.
Slowly in her breath of summer light
The shining day may touch her hair
So careful her thoughts in the evening sun
Lest they open up and blow in breezes
She holds them closely, mosaics in her heart
But to be in the day glow; alive, so beautiful
Swinging weightless on ropes spindled in hope
A dancing heart, a brilliant sea of moments inside that old soul
posted by Bart @ 7/23/2006 06:04:00 AM
1 Comments
Had I the heavens' embroidered cloths, Enwrought with golden and silver light, The blue and the dim and the dark cloths Of night and light and the half-light, I would spread the cloths under your feet: But I, being poor, have only my dreams; I have spread my dreams under your feet; Tread softly because you tread on my dreams. -William Butler Yeats
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