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Of Weeping Dreams

I hung my verses in the wind, time and tide their faults may find . . . . . . . . Ralph Waldo Emerson, Poet ________________ As my eyes drop, I look into my weeping heart, and send words adrift in time and tide. I, a ship that through, the ocean glides, seeking a secret star to guide the way. The storms of life, has shadowed my journey, off course, roaming, far adrift and lost. I float in darkness, and hidden are the perils, my aching tears become part of the mist. Yet, I still have hope, that life will be bright again, with lovely lights instead of deep grief. My verses floating, my words a secret trembling, with only time and tide as their destiny. "Fool!" said my Muse to me, "look into your heart and write!" . . . . .Sir Philip Sidney, Poet ______________________ July 9, 2013 Poetry/Verse/Of Weeping Dreams Copyright Protected, ID 07-491-360-09 All Rights Reserved, 2013, Constance La France

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Skat A

Date: 8/9/2013 7:34:00 PM

congratulations............SKAT

Poet Destroyer A

Date: 8/8/2013 9:39:00 PM

Broken, enjoyed your late night poem. CONGRATULATIONS!!! :-) :-) :-) in Nathan's contest... Always Linda

Nathan D.

Date: 8/8/2013 8:25:00 PM

awesome Nate

Jack Horne

Date: 7/9/2013 2:58:00 PM

I know Sidney but will have to check out Waldo Emerson. beautiful write indeed, my friend

Kash Poet

Date: 7/9/2013 11:27:00 AM

A touching write here Constance.Beautiful poem.

Poet Destroyer A

Date: 7/9/2013 8:51:00 AM

something of a short story that flows as the ocean into my thoughts, such calmness comes into this write, enjoyed this one, and good luck on the contest, have a blessed day,, ~always, p.d.

Russell Sivey

Date: 7/9/2013 7:53:00 AM

This is a wonderful and enlightening write my friend! I truly loved reading this amazing poem this morning! I enjoyed in particular this line, "my aching tears become part of the mist," where you painted a brilliant picture of the tears being enveloped by the mist itself! What a tremendous piece, Great Work!!

Constance La France

Date: 7/9/2013 7:17:00 AM

He sits above the clang and dust of Time, with the worlds secret trembling on his lips . . . " William Watson, Poet, referring to his Muse