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For Stan
This stroll I’ve taken time and times before.
Each moment was as pleasant as the last.
I’ve seen the trees and harkened to Stan’s lore
while trodding grass as green as days long past.
For green and lush they were spite all the pain
and now I can recall the loveliness.
The fear is still remembered, but as gain;
those lessons learned that helped me to address
the joys and how to keep them close to me.
And so I walk again with my old friend
to gaze at flowers red and blue he sees.
We pass old huts whose roofs begin to bend.
Like us they now walk slowly in the sun.
I hear a mockingbird who, like a hawk,
keens sharply causing rabbits near to run.
No need to give a voice to quiet talk,
the sound the path makes is enough for us.
We two are old and like the huts we creak,
so I thank Stan without the need to speak.
Yes, old now and if wiser we don’t know.
Mistakes seem fewer, although just as hard,
but still we’ve come here time and times before
and I’ll keep coming back as life retards.
Comments
Rula
Tue, 2014-02-25 08:20
why
do I feel a bit envious? Too envious in fact (winks)
❤❤❤❤❤❤
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Rula
Tue, 2014-02-25 08:42
But honestly
this is a delight to read. I see you're ready for the imagery workshop while I am still crawling, looking for some extraordinary images :)
Thanks for sharing.
PS. Never seen blue flowers, I went googling it just to find this in wikipedia;
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Blue_flower
A blue flower (German: Blaue Blume) is a central symbol of inspiration. It stands for desire, love, and the metaphysical striving for the infinite and unreachable. It symbolizes hope and the beauty of things
❤❤❤❤❤❤
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Seren
Tue, 2014-02-25 09:07
Dear Wesley,
There are a lot of us that have silently walked with Stan and I felt privileged to walk with you both in words, what a truly excellent poem, this is definitely one of my favourites.
Nothing to crit at this stage I will return for a reread tomorrow night
thank you
love JC x
“The world is full of magic things, patiently waiting for our senses to grow sharper.” — W.B. Yeats
wesley snow
Tue, 2014-02-25 11:03
The blue was indeed intentional.
Can you guess at the red?
By the way, I wrote this without a thesaurus, rhymer or dictionary by my side. This is as "unplugged" as I get.
W. H. Snow
A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds. Percy Bysshe Shelley
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Seren
Thu, 2014-02-27 09:10
Wesley
Has Stan seen this one yet?, I returned to reread and I still cant find anything worthwhile to suggest, I will come back again tomorrow night with a clearer head I am actually going to try and sleep lol unheard of
This is an excellent poem Wesley
love Jayne x
“The world is full of magic things, patiently waiting for our senses to grow sharper.” — W.B. Yeats
scribbler
Sat, 2014-08-16 20:36
Hi Wes
As far as I know this is the first time a poem has been written about me. I have no idea why it took me this long to see it unless it was posted during one of the many time my comp has been down this year. I am flattered and being so don't think I can do a decent critique although you did a good job incorporating the "strolls" I take into this.............stan