The Fear Before the Fall
Tag: the garden
Another World of Pure Imagination
Hold your breath…
Make a wish…
Count to three…
So says Willy Wonka
……
In my dreams
All the things
I dream for you
They come true
If only in my
Imagination
If you cry
Sob or sigh
And form tears
In your eyes
It brings me down
And brings me round
From off my distant cloud
Floating high
On a rosy river
Beneath a rose filled sky
So
Come with me
You will see
There is really nothing there
That could
Harm you
It’s just a wonderful world
Here in make believe
A wonderful world to live in
If only you
Could open wide
And reach inside
I know you
You really want to
See a new world
Beginning
Take my hand
But don’t be afraid
To let go
No more fears
Lurking in the corners
Everything
Living here
Is alive
Right there
Inside you
When life is a zoo
Fling open the cage
Wander free
Join me
And you’ll see
Dear
Yes you’ll see
Clear
It’s just a wonderful world
Here in make believe
It’s such a wonderful world
To live in
If only you could
Reach inside
You would see that
And I know
You want to see
A wonderful world
Again
The Garden of Our Youth
Where have the flowers of spring gone?
Those were the days of our youth.
Spent in the hope of something better. Only to be wasted by those who did not understand their value.
Memorials On Tracing Paper
Short words on a long day
Doors closed on faded memories
Listened to quiet hello’s
Silent good-byes
Young children and older siblings
Watched the wind blow through the spring leaves
Yellow daffodils visited by the honey bee
Remembered young faces to be put with old bodies
Cried because that’s the thing to do
Along the Garden Path
The Garden Path Collage
The Whistling Wind
Through the cracks
I feel the colds
Soft silk touch
Slow to draw
The warmth from off
My flesh
Outside
I hear it call
Telling me to hurry
There
Come see what has
Been done
I’m no fool
I see
Through those
Same old cracks
How the withered grass
Roughly bent
Blows
I see the hard clasped oak
Leaf
Trembling there
Like clothes
On the line
Even the snow white
Clouds
Begin to blush
Pink
As the setting sun
Bleaches hard
Across a barren
Sidewalk
I know
And I will not
Go
For only the brighter
Shades
And pastels of
Spring to come
Will pull me out
From this warm
House
The Prince’s First Muster
A Morning Walk
A Beautiful Day
I wander down forgotten trails
Searching out forgotten tales
Weary feet carry on
Beyond each bend and twisting turn
In every moment
I retrace
The memory of this magic place
False Promises Nouveau 