Winds of Time
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I struggle always with my memories,
The long ago past is forever lurking;
In a moment I am whispered back,
And the pages of my life are fluttering.
Fluttering in the misty winds of time,
To where the joyful and painful burn;
O but this is the key to who I am,
And each memory has its own turn.
Turn back the pages of my journey,
I am a little girl playing and dreaming;
O but to stay frozen in this memory,
And to not ever know the pain of weeping.
Weeping has always been my companion,
I so often stand in a place of sorrows;
Past the ornate gate and winding road,
And the past shall haunt all my tomorrows.
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August 16, 2014
Poetry/Quatrain/Winds of Time
Copyright Protected, ID 08-591-463-16
All Rights Reserved, 2014, Constance La France
Submitted to the Standard contest, Any Poem #8,
sponsor, Skat, Judged 08/2014
Third Place
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Submitted to the Standard contest, Where Frozen Embers Burn,
sponsor Gail Doyle, 2014
8th place
Copyright © Constance La France | Year Posted 2014
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