Tags
becoming, destiny, dreams, faith, grace, life, love, memory, relationship, spirit, wisdom, woman, writing
I know this place
(the way it feels)
burning leaves on Monday –
E’en now
the dawn pours warmth
across my bed
as quietly I still myself
(another morning after) –
to take of breath
(tis all I am)
and wonder
where you are.
Was life
I never meant to live
given me for holding.
Eternity or something less –
always the two
– made one –
A story I’ve been telling
dare I speak of love aloud
lost (as truth) –
a silence I endure –
as sunlight floats
unnoticed
by the chill.
Memories
come as sleep –
longing moves the curtains
while soft – a favored verse
is pressed to light.
Words are left without a sound –
(places without slumber)
a line to fade
in wondering
I’ve come.
tornadoday 
Lovely
Thank you, Cynthia……. Your presence on my porch always makes me smile! ~ Love, Bobbie
Bobbie, I think your blog has become my home away from home…so thank you.
Love right back to you
I am delighted! You grab a seat and I’ll get us some tea! 🙂
ahhh very nice 🙂
Bobbie – I am certain now the world is seeing the blossoms in your verse; the weaver and the loom, You have learned to take the moments and the feelings, all the ways of sense and knit them into verse so the reader can live the very experience you have felt. If you have dreamed of becoming a writer, then your dream is coming true, and as more find your words they will give more voice to what I am saying … Blessings for your journey … – gs
Thank you, Peter……….for the many gifts that are you. ~ Love