
Where had the time gone?
Young hands were so adept at catching such things.
Between eye and mind does a wanting lie,
To be forced upon this wind blown moment forever.
Stay with me my loves a little while more,
That my weary bones may seek out thine youth.
I have caught a chill and must now withdraw,
To keep each flickering flame lit.
Now I rest this tired head upon loving hands,
And whisper secrets of decades long past.
Secrets of all the winters I have loved,
Now passed upon a wheel of time.
Oh, young minds were so adept at capturing these things,
Where has the time gone.
Winters have I loved,
Oh winter have I loved.
Michael is a husband, father, writer, poet, and aspiring author. He finds time to scribble down his thoughts in the dead of night, between ghosts and night owls. If you’d like to read more of his poetry follow the link here. Or to visit his full blog, ‘The Ink Owl’ click here.
The few antique words / phrases / constructions scattered throughout this piece don’t seem too put of place, given the poem’s (successful) attempt to answer / illuminate the question posed by its opening line. Thanks.
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Thank you for the feedback! I’ve been meaning to respond back to you. I wasn’t sure the mix of terms would work but they apparently did! Thank you for the read.
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Sorry; typo, I meant “out of place”.
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Reblogged this on The Reluctant Poet.
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