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SHADOWS OF THOUGHT





AN ANGEL`S TOUCH:

I heard the sounds of singing
As only angels sing.
But it was heard as quickly
As words whispered in the wind.

I felt a touch caress me
It gently grazed my skin.
It was a fleeting touch indeed
Soft as a butterflys` wing.

I caught a scent of flowers,
Of Roses on the vine.
Yet all the trees were barren.
It was the scent of the divine.

I turned and looked about ,
But nothing I did see.
I felt great peace engulf my soul
I felt God`s love for me.

The clouds then seemed to open up
Bringing brilliance to the day.
I paused, looked up and stood in awe
Then I knelt down to pray.

So when things seem the darkest,
And no hope can you see.
Remember the Angels may come to you,
As they surely came to me.

© Copyrighted - All rights reserved by Shirley




THE PIANO PLAYER

Oh life you are too cruel to take, As memories invade,
The chambers of my crowded mind, As I lie in my bed.
The bottle lies atop my bed,As nightmares haunt my dreams.
The clear white liquid leaves a pool.And demons hear my screams.
I reach for solace with quivering hands for the bottle where it lay.
Instead I clutch the dampened sheets `til night turns into day.
I close my eyes to shut away the horrors of the night.
I smell a rose, I hear the sounds of angels` wings in flight.
They`ve come to still my trembling hands,And banish demons` screams.
They`ve come to finally let me sleep And take away the dreams
Yes they have come to take me home, to take away my fright.
I must go , I`ll say good-by , I`m leaving you tonight.
Please don`t hate me my dear ones, because I couldn`t cope.
I was not bad, just weak and sad. And I gave up all hope.
Please love me just a little, Tho` I have done these wrongs.
I`ve given you so little, But I`ve given you my songs.
Life here on earth was just too hard. Not meant for such as I.
Be glad for me- for I`m now free.`Tho I never meant to die

© Copyrighted - All rights reserved by Shirley




YESTERDAY:
Was the morning air as sweet when the dew lay on the rose?
Do the evening stars shine brighter as the day comes to a close?
Are the children`s eyes much brighter ,than they were just yesterday--
And their voices filled with laughter, as they go about their play?
Are the flowers so much brighter, the birds` song much more sweet?
And is not my step much lighter , since you and I did meet?
And the breeze that bends the trees in its` game of hide and seek.
When it was only yesterday , it dried a tear upon my cheek.....

© Copyrighted - All rights reserved by Shirley




COMING HOME

The mist lay on the meadow,
The snow upon the hill.
The days give into shadow,
Birds fluffed against the chill.
The trees have given up their leaves
standing naked in the cold.
The gentle breeze that rocked the swing,
now blows cold, and oh so bold.
Her once young hand lingers
upon the album on her knee.
The past now lies before her
for her old eyes to see.
What awaits her quivering hand
as she slowly turns the page?
The joys of youth long since gone
replaced by gentle age?
The wind , like death pounds at the door,
filling her with unknown fears
of lonely nights, of lonely days?
She`s choked with unshed tears.
"Oh youth", she whispers, "You`ve slipped away.
As spring turned into fall
and now I hear the pounding wind
of winter as it calls ".
"Come with me ",the wind replies,
"Your days on earth are done.
Now you must meet your maker,
you`ve had your seasons in the sun".
The light flickers in the lantern.
Her heart flutters in her breast.
She gently shuts the album,
putting it aside to rest.
The wind whistles `round the windows,
it beckons her to come.
"Why do I have to come so soon?
Is my labor here all done"?
She smiles as she wraps the shawl
`Tho she`s chilled right to the bone.
"I`m lost , I`m old, and I am cold.
But now I`m coming home".

© Copyrighted - All rights reserved by Shirley





My Cyber Space Lover.
I have not heard his voice whisper sweet things, of love, in a voice sweet ---and so--
I have not heard him whisper forbidden things, things told when the lights are low.
I have not felt his lips kiss me gently, nor his touch that brings me delight.
I have only imagined these sweet things, as we sit and chat `thru the night.
Tho` I`ve not seen his eyes gaze upon me, or his smile, as I sit in my room.
I have not walked with him on beaches, nor made love `neath the silvery moon,
I`ve not heard him whisper " I love you, my darling, my sweetheart , my own,
But I knows that our souls are together, as I sit with him here, all alone.
And I fly thru` the night to my dear one , the one I have never seen,
I fly to the arms of my lover---on wings made of wishes and dreams..

© Copyrighted - All rights reserved by Shirley




THIS POEM WON A CONTEST WITH BLUEMOUNTAIN AND WAS USED AS A GREETING CARD, PLEASE CLICK HERE.

My favorite song, 'crazy'








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