To him of Truth
Inures wealth of heart.
Wisdom grows its roots
in the sands of time.
I am a free man
given to adventure
when and if I find it,
I pray my passions run amok.
at the core, the common characteristic among us of such disparate views, diverse cultures, and multitude of experiences, is our genius and the universal uniqueness of it.
bare a boy
I ran out of youth
yea, it was then
the running Began
I am bound to eternal restlessness,
Born to shiver in the warmth,
To perspire in the chill.
I stay a child of Saturday for having no more ambition than that.
I wander down roads less traveled for the mysteries are greater there.
Struggling to know one thought profound, never writ nor spoken.
Should I encounter thee, I offer my hand, my smile; lest I remain a stranger forever wonder what passion lies unearthed in thy soul.
I have come from where there are few neighbors to where they are aplenty and I yearn return to where I was before I got back here.
Each one with whom you travel owns a microcosm of your life and though she goes her separate way, your story’s there within her.
This was lovely. I just loved everything about this one. Thanks for sharing 🙂
Jeff, you left a wonderful comment on my site, so I followed you back to yours to be gifted a beautiful poem whispered in my ears. Now that you have captivated me, I am off to read more of your words. Have a wonderful night.
It is nice to be heard.
Thank you for such kind words.
A sensitive moment of intimacy. Enjoy your writing, Jeff. Wanted to comment on “Why” as well but couldn’t figure out how. Loved it. Memories of those old typewriters and the pain of editing all those papers for University etc. Yikes.
Thank you Victoria for looking at my site and for your kind comments.
The typewriter was a gift when I was a boy. Someone saw something then . . . it took me a little longer to figure it out. Maybe you can relate?
This is oh-so-lovely 🙂
I’m pleased you enjoyed it Lori.
Thank you for stopping by.
Delicate and mysterious– nicely done!
Thank you for your kind comments
Beautiful imagery tied within this piece. Nice write ~ Rose
Thank you Rose.
i will make you dream again…i just love this ending and could drink it in in slow sips…
So the last drops of vintage wine. Thank you.
I enjoyed the gentle dream like flow to your writing, echoing the inevitable embrace of the hour before midnight, but at which point, it seems there is still time to dream, and to live a life with hope…these are my thoughts
Kerry-ann,
Thank you for your thoughtful comments. Surely you find your insight a faithful companion.
Please, wander back again.
To dream again in the dead of winter, would be nice, very thought provoking piece.
Thank you for reading my poem. I’m happy it was able to evoke some thought.
Nothing like winter to chill those doubts indeed.
Loved this!
Doubts, never pleasant, seem diminished in recent winters. Inclement ‘weather’ is good for hardening the resolve.
I appreciate your comments and hope this will not be your last stop here.
Such a promise in those last lines. Beautiful words and for me a poignant love poem also.
There is hope, always, despite the lateness of the hour.
Thank you for your comments . . . and for your kindness.
Stoke fading ember – because before sleep you will remember me, I will be with you – always. Lovely,
Thank you Gay. I’m pleased there was something in the message for you.
To dream again indeed.
Thank you for taking the time to stop by.
This is very soothing and I can hear the words in whispers. Simply lovely.
Thank you for your kind comments, Diana and for taking the time to ‘listen.’
I like the mystique in this one.
May I guess you speak of sleep itself?
Yours is an interesting interpretation and I’m happy you found a message in my poem.
Thank you for stopping by and for taking time to leave your valuable comments.