Image via Magpie Tales i won't be leaving here with you nor will you be staying with me for any longer than you see fit that is just the way of it it is the silent refrain of my being i won't be leaving here with you but i will stay, until my time is done as your ceremonial chosen one no, this won't be my last tour though it is the first time i won't be leaving here with you shh, now, darling. this is what i do i see it in your eyes, our time's drawing to a close. please don't mind the tears they come, they go, it's true... i won't be leaving here with you Rene ~ December 8, 2012
Where do the memories go? I've found that as I've aged, even the happy ones have a haze of tears over them.
ReplyDeleteMy bit is a character study rather than a poem.
This is clever, Rene.
ReplyDeleteHahaha
ReplyDeleteZQ
Oh, I really enjoyed reading this. Lovely.
ReplyDeleteI love the need for grass stains .. Dealing in memories not easy
ReplyDeleteOh yes, grass stains makes it all the better! Very cute, magpie.
ReplyDeleteA skillful and witty post...
ReplyDeleteOh, you aced this. Love it, Rene.
ReplyDeleteYes , your right ! .. Who was it said that "childhood is what we spend the rest of our lives trying to recover from "
ReplyDelete"Grass stains a plus" oh, I like that! Well put!!
ReplyDeleteLove this!
ReplyDeleteOh, yeah. This works.
ReplyDelete=)
I like the way grass stains plays a mind game with Sunday...stained glass...
ReplyDeletethis rocks. And my own application?
ReplyDelete"The ball glove worn..
folding like a soft leather glove.
The knees are bruised and
scarred
from valiant efforts
and long glorious
summer nights.....
"Not The Rockefellers" has been included in the A Sunday Drive for this week. Be assured that I hope this helps to point even more new visitors in your direction.
ReplyDeletehttp://asthecrackerheadcrumbles.blogspot.com/2014/06/a-sunday-drive_8.html