22 Tuesday Oct 2013
Posted in Poetry
Tags
becoming, bliss, breath, connection, destiny, dreams, grace, gravel roads, knowledge, life, love, old maps, passion, poetry, reason, relationship, spirit, truth, wonder
days
are but a poem penned
years no longer matter
the sun
is setting low
beneath the pines
waiting there
the anxious moon
to fill her nights
with wonder
her every want – a magic
fell to rhyme
lay me here
stay me here –
in mystery made sweeter
wrap my wish
in memory
– a crush of love
divine
. . .
Starry-eyed Writer, Cautious Philosopher, Hopeful Romantic
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tornadoday 
Beautiful, nostalgically beautiful. Keep safe & stay awesome! 🙂
thank you so very much, dear friend ~ love yet, bobbie
This is another of your “I don’t really know what to say about it” pieces, Bobbie. It’s just mysterously beartiful of its own accord and needs no words of praise to acclaim its worth. I guess it just suits my mood tonight. …..moonlight through the pines…..
~~~xo~~~ Me
Whatever the reasons, I’m blessed to know my words found you, Paul. Love ever, Bobbie