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Cynosure

On the dreary streets of a quaint but callus steadfast hamlet

A pearl in the bluster carries a handwoven sweet grass basket

The umbrella' d  tinge of the tiny town was opaque and gray

As the girl in the blue dress out shined the break of day

A beauty comparable to the first hint of light after winters darkest night

Emerging from the black ashes of peril like a beacon in your sight

Walking a well beaten footpath to town that was forged by frequency

She seemed to float on the earth's surface with affluent translucency

With a quick cut through an alley she'd enter a market in the center of town

Where farmers, hucksters, and traders peddled their wares till the sun melted down

There was a hastening hum to the hurry and hustle of the bustling crowds

But she stood out with a deafening silence as does the sun amongst clouds

My ears quelled the chaos as my eyes froze the scene like a loyal horse waiting

She was the sole proprietor of movement in my eye's still life painting

From the first instant I saw her, many pairs of years ago

She implanted herself inside me as a seed with a need to grow

Her smiles were the rain that perked me up when I was wilting

Life is but a patchwork of blocks the gods must be quilting

And if the large design of life were sewn together pieces of fabric effigies 

I'm the stitch in the ditch of the piece work that she will never see


When our eyes made contact It was the sunlight I needed to thrive

For I'm but the sapling in the forest fighting for some sun to survive 

To survive the cruelties of nature is a feat far from a cinch

Formidable giants must fall for me to gain but an inch

Generations of time pass till the present season is all that I got

And one by one all the old growth must rot

And the timbering of my brethren in the past has been fine

But now I creek when the wind blows and I'm next in the line

Time cannot age youthful thoughts that are as sweet as honeydew

As my mind travels back to that pretty girl in the hand sewn dress of blue

The handful of times our hands touched strengthened me like the winds from the west

I'll never forget the girl in the pretty blue dress

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