Forever in Fantasy

I used to believe in forever, but forever’s too good to be true. 

Yet still I remember using forever, forever when thinking of you.

‘Cause you promised me summer would come back around, every year –

and you’d never, ever, forget me, old bear.

But sometimes the winters got just too long, and I sort of forgot –

And I dropped a few things along the way…

things that you sought.

Because you found me again, and you held out your hand:

“You, it seems – you’ve lost your muchness – so come back to wonderland.”

Then you promised adventure and dancing, and treacle too

so I followed you

until I outgrew that land, and all  it had

perhaps too fast.

Wandered alone a few miles

and things turned gray for a while

Until – I stumbled out my door onto the road

That asked to lead me home

back to you

Because now you promised starlight; you promised song

Now you promised me a reason to go on.

And you always knew what was in my soul

and you taught me all I need to know:

“Never laugh at live dragons” you said

and because I’d never seen one, I believed

you told me to follow the setting sun; and you taught me the songs of the stars and the trees.

And when I asked, “where are the mountains?

Where is my there, and back again?”

And no answer came, and I was angry, and I thought you’d broken your word

because the moonlight wavered

And was cold.

And I came to you crying and I said

“Where is the dragon? Where are the answers? Where is the untrodden path?”

And finally you turned and said

“My girl, I never promised that.”

So now it’s left to me, to pick up all the threads

and begin again

But not the same; not unchanged;

And not alone. Never.

Since you were with me every day, and will be

Forever

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Quotes by A. A. Milne, Lewis Carroll, and  J. R. R. Tolkien
Picture by Alan Lee
 
Linked to http://withrealtoads.blogspot.com
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Echo

I wanted to write a song

about the waves that crash upon my dreams in the darkness

and about the stars that fall simmering through the sky to march upon my pillow

and about the warm sand and the cool air and the dark heavens

and all the places of the mind

but the tune disintegrated

like so much dust

at the breath that woke me

in one moment of soft gray rainfall

before eyes open and dreams vanish

I heard only a scattered dew of notes

and my pen fell from my hand

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linking up with http://withrealtoads.blogspot.com

The Color of Dreams

If I was colorblind

and never’d seen the colors of the sky

at the place where sunset mingles orange and blue

and if I’d never seen the six different shades of pink

that apple blossoms fall in during spring

and if I didn’t know the color of each star

I wonder then how changed my life would be

I wonder then what dreams would claim my soul.

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Picture and prompt from http://withrealtoads.blogspot.com

 

 

 

My Heart is a Waterfall

my heart is a waterfall, that beats upon the sand

my blood flows steadily, strongly, quietly, as the deep river

each breath of mine is as measured as the waves of the ocean

my eyes are two moons, reflecting the light of everything around myself

as they look out at this world, this wild world, this empty untouched land that is my birthright to look upon

this wildness that is the very life of my soul, and the eternal breaking of it

I look out and I try to understand it, as my heart beats and my blood flows and my breath ebbs out, and in

and finally I stop looking, and at last I just am

 

 

prompt from http://withrealtoads.blogspot.com

Dona Nobis Pacem

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There’s a girl in a room

and it’s dark and it’s cold

and she’s angry and scared

and she’s not very old.

And she’s hoping that someone will notice her cries

as she once thought they would,

but each day her hope dies.

“They’ve planes and they’ve kings,

and thousands of things,

and they’re nothing but chains and lies.”

Her tears flow down every river,

she whispers in every town,

and she’s everywhere that isn’t fair

but her cries are being drowned.

Yet the hard dead world turns onward,

deaf to the pleas of the weak.

But at the last, all that’s past is due to those who speak.

For every child is born with the right

to dream about fixing what others incurred,

and every child is born with the sight

to see through the darkness a whole new world.

 

 

linked to http://withrealtoads.blogspot.com and part of Blog for Peace day 2013