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Pastimes : A Poetry Corner
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To: Robert Douglas Hickey who started this subject3/12/2001 11:57:50 PM
From: coca-cola-kid   of 1582
 
Here on my pillow as hard as stone,
as the stars shoot together,
I remember the smells of home.

When I can't hear the ripples roll,
I wonder how I wound up here.
Gazing at the sun the rays begin to toll
and inside I know the night is near.

As I walk alone by the riverside,
how these days they seem to roam,
while sitting next to the rising tides,
these years begin to moan.

So I lie down upon the dream, the one I had before,
I close my eyes with a simple song,
and my soul begins to soar.

Cck
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