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Oct 10, 2009
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Sun tracking flower
I couldn’t sing you the sweetness
of summer orange and humming bee haze
The gentle delights of the sunset quiet
Suspension of fate pinned to love sated gaze
I wanted to paint but the shadows cast openly
tainted the strokes and I hid my brush
longing to live in the light of that dreaming
the scents of the garden and colours more lush
What songs would you choose for your solitude?
Which petals would pile at you breast?
How would you shape your believing
To bring you the comfort to soothe you best?
I don’t want to fade from the simple glory
Of walking to face the sun
I will turn every day, though I may lose direction
A story is never complete once begun
I‘m not quite content in this transient placement
I stretch to the arch of the passion
And I am lost of late to the catacombs here
And left standing abandoned to popular fashion
Still, there are jewels in the windows I bless
And stars for my bright country evenings
I am never alone with a pen in my hand
and never regretful, entirely, on leaving
I am fearful that I may be swallowed
I know you felt she was the prize
I believe you were probably right in your view
But still I set diamonds that shine in your eyes
Despite the reserve I am solid
Complete in the pleasures we share
There will always be cracks in perfection
Thus we can see what dwells there
of summer orange and humming bee haze
The gentle delights of the sunset quiet
Suspension of fate pinned to love sated gaze
I wanted to paint but the shadows cast openly
tainted the strokes and I hid my brush
longing to live in the light of that dreaming
the scents of the garden and colours more lush
What songs would you choose for your solitude?
Which petals would pile at you breast?
How would you shape your believing
To bring you the comfort to soothe you best?
I don’t want to fade from the simple glory
Of walking to face the sun
I will turn every day, though I may lose direction
A story is never complete once begun
I‘m not quite content in this transient placement
I stretch to the arch of the passion
And I am lost of late to the catacombs here
And left standing abandoned to popular fashion
Still, there are jewels in the windows I bless
And stars for my bright country evenings
I am never alone with a pen in my hand
and never regretful, entirely, on leaving
I am fearful that I may be swallowed
I know you felt she was the prize
I believe you were probably right in your view
But still I set diamonds that shine in your eyes
Despite the reserve I am solid
Complete in the pleasures we share
There will always be cracks in perfection
Thus we can see what dwells there
— Cloudthings, Oct 10, 2009
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Critiques
Ravenshakti
16 years 8 months ago
Dear Cloudthings...
Cloudthings
16 years 8 months ago
Keep writing, I'll catch up soon
Cloudthings
16 years 8 months ago
For want of prosidy.... cheers!
Cloudthings
16 years 8 months ago
I am excited to find you are another Annie!
Cloudthings
16 years 8 months ago
Thanks Annie, takes a while to make sense of the rating systems
Morgana Tragic…
16 years 8 months ago
Yay Anni
Cloudthings
16 years 8 months ago
Hope you've been at the pen lots, hard to make the time here & g
doorman
16 years 8 months ago
Dear Anni
Cloudthings
16 years 8 months ago
you have slipped in here with such grace & such ease & I am sure
Wafi
16 years 8 months ago
I am never alone with a pen in my hand!
Cloudthings
16 years 8 months ago
so happy that my writing has been able to reach you like that, i
Geezer
16 years 8 months ago
Petals of...
Cloudthings
16 years 8 months ago
heheh, I put the IN in Gee, then I took the IN out, it just feel
Geezer
16 years 8 months ago
"IN" no way...
windchimes
16 years 8 months ago
A delight