Don Johnson Poet Ballad

Green Door Speaks

the green  door speaks,
the hinges squeak,
candle large of yellow streaks,
of black smoke oil of dreams,
do enter there, my beauty rare,
to see me enter yeah,
the rough hewed table seems,
to resurrect the scene,
and love is in between,
the table and the chairs,
a shelter so serene...
 
Don

This Green door place is inner space,
A darkened room of dreams,
A place an state to meditate ,
To focus mind, to see,
Be in another time an place,
Where thoughts an dreams can be,
A mental  time surreal in space,
Across the mystic sea

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Debbie Duncan August 6, 2013 at 5:51 PM awesome, I need to meditate more, as I used to. guess I'm too old to concentrate. I watched my older sister slit her wrist/ arm.. My Fireflies poem will tell the story ;}

Karen Anglesey July 31, 2013 at 5:56 PM I like the enchantment...visually serene across a mystic sea :)

Bl Devnath July 25, 2013 at 12:25 PM Beautiful imagery of love. Enjoyed a lot. Loved always, bl