They Were My Bluest Skies
They were my bluest skies
where my fantasies thrived,
where dreams continued to rise...
to reach luminous clouds of pride.
Seasons drastically transformed
their colors from bright to dark...
as the playful sun rearranged
everyone of them with a spark.
They were my bluest skies
I fixed my long gaze on...
to foretell joy or demise
with an unexpected sign.
Still my advanced days have the incredible display of vitality
of those I spent in the agitated, cold waters I braved;
and if courage ever dimmed, I would rely on agility...
now, many more days await me, unless my fortress is razed.
Copyright © Andrew Crisci | Year Posted 2010
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