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(The pictures are the link for the other sections)
Revised 27 December, 2009
Memories by the Campfire - Poetry©
I wander through the hills of summer gold
The sun entraps me in it's magic hold
It filters through the mossy covered pine
Laughter fills the warm and clinging air
I laugh with them "til all my spirits climb
Love is all around us everywhere
Transporting us into another time
To lie beneath the shadow of a tree
With memories that age cannot rescind
To fill our souls with longing to be free
To soar among the children of the wind.
We sit side by side in the quiet of the darkened room watching the flames flicker in the distant fireplace and the sounds of music filter in through the silence painting an echo of the past on your face.
|The sun shines in through frosted panes and in weeping silence stares blankly out as a stranger intruding a guest-filled house, or a returning to a once loved place.|
I greet thee through the morning mist, and silver shines the sun.
The early rose by dew beads kissed, a new day just begun
A robin's cry, a lullaby, the day is o'er too soon
And slowly over garden walls in quiet, creeps the moon
I love thee not for friendship's sake
Nor yet forgotten give and take
I harken not to hue and cry
Or under tender summer sky
But what I say and think and do
Reflect the touch and thought of you
Mistress Mary, Quite Contrary,
My garden, too, was full of flowers
Oh Hapless heart, How may we do
Perhaps it cannot countermand
Sweet blue mist of the butterfly wing
Flitting across the summer sky
You help my wearied spirits sing
And never stop to reason why.
Gentle is the night to those who dream and in their dreaming see the hope of things to come.
For in their hearts a child still lives with eyes shut tight to wish upon a star and in that heart their dreams come true.
There is a ghost called loneliness
that dwells within these walls
He rattles at the window panes
and natters at the walls
His cries are like the gentle wind
his trail a swirl of dust
He dwells in scents of memory
Forgetfulness and Must.
This ghost and I are friends of old
He's oft beside me lay
He tagged along on country walks
Or joined me in my play
But when we sit together
In Quiet interlude
I'm filled with peace and full content
The Ghost cannot intrude.
Come away, so far away,
Come with me where
Come into my heart, my love,
|Deep in the heart of the mountain, Breezes caress stone-wrought pipes which blend their moans of solitude with the night. Whispering dust motes of the dark, like rustling petticoats of a sun-bronzed maid as she wends her way to meet with love in the shadows of an ancient tomb.|
|And thus the swan in snowy splendor glided to the center of the lake: His life an imagery of beauty. Sang he, then left he off for mercy's sake for death was his and he was done with love. And yet with dignity did he forsake the precious life t'was his alone and in his passing go we also in his silent wake|