Taming This Tyke's Voice Since 2007

Awaiting His Return

Awaiting his return

The once verdant bowers

Have lost their greens

The vibrant hues morphed

To earthy tones and mellow.

The wanton wind crisp and gentle

Brings such piercing chills

Of sweet sweet sorrow.

 

I hold on to the promise

To the promises of the winds

To blow the greys

And break  the clouds

To million rain showers

And the rays will return

To bathe me

And rouse my dormancy.

To bring the radiance back

To my muffled existence.

I holdfast to the echo

To the echoes of your laughter

To ease this moment

Like a lamp at sundown

Keeping me awake

On vigil,

Awaiting,

Anticipating

For the chirping of the birds

Signaling his return

To bring the music back

To my muffled existence.

 

I cling to memory

To the momories of home

Distance left me orphaned

In foreign streets looking

Searching

Knocking on shut doors

Begging for some attention

To notice my muffled existence.

The autumn wind came

And blew my face

Taking its glow away

And left me

With sweet sweet sorrow.

But I hold on and await

To the promise, to the promises of the winds

The genial air of springtime

Will return

To bring him back  to me :

The rays

The beam and radiance ~

 

Of his sweet sweet smile.

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