I do not want a copper bed,
but a bit of cedar,
lined with patch…
songs I sang
when no one heard,
of a place I (lonely) knew…
I want a pen and paper,
just enough…
a lantern, and a crust of bread…
Let them carry me
at twilight…
barefoot to the meadow…
..to sleep
beneath a crescent moon,
shadowed by my fathers…
a serenade of drums and flute,
oleander and sage…
I want a story barely started…
and evermore to write…
but a bit of cedar,
lined with patch…
songs I sang
when no one heard,
of a place I (lonely) knew…
I want a pen and paper,
just enough…
a lantern, and a crust of bread…
Let them carry me
at twilight…
barefoot to the meadow…
..to sleep
beneath a crescent moon,
shadowed by my fathers…
a serenade of drums and flute,
oleander and sage…
I want a story barely started…
and evermore to write…
tornadoday 
This is beautiful… I’m looking forward to reading more of your poetry.
Thank you. I am humbled by your kindness.
very melancholic and enriched with emotions 🙂 one can only write like this if he was feeling blue, I enjoyed this immensely, thank you for sharing .
I often refer to these as my ’emily moments’ 🙂 Thank you……dearly!
Wonderful work, I hope to learn and read more! Love to you, Linda …thank you for following!
Thank you… I am honored by your presence as well! Love, Bobbie
Love this but specifically the reference to Oleander… Reminds me of one of my favourite books White Oleander by Janet Fitch
Absolutely! That’s one of my favorites too – definitely in my top 10, although I think my top 10 has grown to around 53……… 🙂 Thank you.