Lobby holes
Posted: Wed Nov 30, 2016 11:10 am
Seems a scarcity of new writings lately and I am certainly guilty. I haven't written anything new for yonks so I'm posting one that has been here before. I did add a few more verses.
Lobby Holes and Butterfly Nets
I reach back to a childhood; to another time and place.
It’s photos cached in albums of my mind.
Where sun filled summer weekends set my eager soul to soar.
Where sparrow hawks and thermal winds combined.
The images I conjure fill the long hours of my night.
They take me to a calmer day and time.
A time of languid wanderings cross clover covered fields,
beneath a sea of close hauled clouds sublime.
Sustained by joy I ramble the pathways of old roamings;
a dreamer, both battle scarred and seasoned.
And there I find a carefree world of dignity and grace;
tranquil, nothing scheduled, planned, or reasoned.
And my freedom? Never questioned. Time spent of no accord.
Of the passing hours just the sun keeps score.
And limits? Yes! Curbed only by my imagination.
The world is mine to marvel and explore.
There are trees to climb; stones to throw; lobby holes to plunder.
Streams to bridge and brand new trails to blaze.
Sparrow hawks are circling high, on summer’s rising thermals
and all around me nature paints my days.
Lost memories are screening in the theatre of my dreams;
wide skies of azure blue and paddocks green.
My world is rich with sounds and sights that fill my very soul;
a landscape, painted, peaceful and serene
And the pictures move to soothe me. To calm my sleepless hours,
until my thoughts surrender to the night.
As the echoes of my childhood, fade soft in morning haze,
I wake content, to one more dawning’s light.
Lobby Holes and Butterfly Nets
I reach back to a childhood; to another time and place.
It’s photos cached in albums of my mind.
Where sun filled summer weekends set my eager soul to soar.
Where sparrow hawks and thermal winds combined.
The images I conjure fill the long hours of my night.
They take me to a calmer day and time.
A time of languid wanderings cross clover covered fields,
beneath a sea of close hauled clouds sublime.
Sustained by joy I ramble the pathways of old roamings;
a dreamer, both battle scarred and seasoned.
And there I find a carefree world of dignity and grace;
tranquil, nothing scheduled, planned, or reasoned.
And my freedom? Never questioned. Time spent of no accord.
Of the passing hours just the sun keeps score.
And limits? Yes! Curbed only by my imagination.
The world is mine to marvel and explore.
There are trees to climb; stones to throw; lobby holes to plunder.
Streams to bridge and brand new trails to blaze.
Sparrow hawks are circling high, on summer’s rising thermals
and all around me nature paints my days.
Lost memories are screening in the theatre of my dreams;
wide skies of azure blue and paddocks green.
My world is rich with sounds and sights that fill my very soul;
a landscape, painted, peaceful and serene
And the pictures move to soothe me. To calm my sleepless hours,
until my thoughts surrender to the night.
As the echoes of my childhood, fade soft in morning haze,
I wake content, to one more dawning’s light.