Winds of Change

Winds of Change Riding on the wings of time – a mystery. Carried on the winds of past history. Beauty of still the vision seen. Memories cherished of what had been. In a rear view mirror- truth gleaned ? Reality felled – all that was dreamed. Her reality ?, - but the Grim Reapers plan to kill off the dream, the heart, the mam. Riding on the wings of time – a mystery carried on the winds of past history. Beauty of still the vision seen in spite of herself and what has been – the journey, the adventure of this old man who, with love, does the best he can to execute the dreams, the desires, the plan. All efforts- in the end – to no avail. All efforts made – only to fail. How to cut the cord ?, to let go ?, to accept fate, that which do know, and have known all along – to let it be and let it be gone ? This seems to be something can’t and seems to be something I shan’t – for the love I have to give – buried deep – lives on, will not give up, lay down and sleep, that deep sleep of the long dead. Just can not get her out of my head ! Beauty, doth look down on me ! This Lady, fair doth not see – but images project, reflected in the mirror of she. B. J. “A” 2 August 17th 2008