Tags
becoming, connection, conscious consciousness, death, dreams, faith, fearless, grace, gravel roads, knowledge, life, living, love, memory, old maps, passion, poetry, reason, restless, self, soul touch, spirit, truth, understanding, value, wisdom
will the river
run dry
for a promise beholding
as secret these dreams
held aloft
by the stars
tell me their names
share me to story
of a moment –
eternity
here in your arms
of a place
in the wood
surrendered to blossom
come of a night
you held me
this way
warned me of sorrows
your loving
would leave me
remind me
again –
what of joy to repay
when all
that is left
is a reason for going
when the cool morning air
sits deep in my bones
beg me
remember
the sweet smell of autumn
if e’er I’ve forgotten
my way back
to home
. . .
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You are at home in my heart always dearest Bobbie. ❤ xX
No wonder I always find my way back, dear Jane. Ever, I hold you in mine. ❤
:if e’er I’ve forgotten
my way back to home”
Of all the people I know…, this would never happen to you !
~xo~ Paul
Not a chance, dear Paul…………. There’s a map that is my soul……….