Passing fancies

too long have I sometimes sat alone
on the branch of a tree bare of leaves
too oft I have flowed o’er the withered
heath of another’s dried up affection

you must forgive if I seem to withhold
my voice from the world at large
and gaze instead at the intricacies
in a dragonfly’s eye

for in the moon’s embrace I have found
that truth and love are not the same
and the wind has kissed my fear away
while the sun tried to shame us all

passing fancies become the norm
and dreams wing into the light of day
I am not like you and cannot sit
in the bright glare of false love

I am not of this world for I can fly
on the whisper of feathered wings
no one told me when to stop
kissing bluebirds in the dawn

Childhood blurs with unreal dreams
hurtful years melt away to gold
I stand at the path strewn with silver stones
looking back at the grey of life

July 21/06

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3 thoughts on “Passing fancies

  1. Frodo lass says:

    I am not of this world for I can fly
    on the whisper of feathered wings

    That line gaves me shivers. THe whole poem has such beautiful imagery lara.

  2. merrill says:

    she’s been making me shiver for years
    🙂

  3. ~lara says:

    Thank you Frodo my love.

    LOL Martin, you’re a different case altogether.

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