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Postlude

I spoke gently to the Wind I sang praises to the Moon I stood firmly under the Sun I waded deep into a River I waited patiently by the Sea I walked tall through a Meadow I sat quietly beneath a Tree I whispered softly to a Raindrop I listened closely to a Flower I held a Mountain within my hand I found a Universe in a Brook I gazed at Clouds inside a Pebble I strolled a Forest lost in Mist and when the Day was finally through and when the Night had finally come and when the Dawn at last appeared and when I stood once again under the Sun I knew that in my Spring, I loved. That in my Summer, I laughed. That in my Autumn, I sang. That in my Winter, I cried in the blur of a blustery Gale disquieting everything that Ever Was blowing in from a restless Sea blowing down from the boreal North blowing across every Field and through every Vale and Town and when I listened to that Flower it spoke a thousand scented words that touched and pierced my Soul like a flight of spellbound birds in a dream that left too soon beyond the far ridge, calling me on this eternal afternoon.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2020




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Date: 10/24/2020 3:59:00 AM
Wow.. this is a bit haunting, in a sentimental sense.. beautiful words...
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Gregory Joseph Firlotte
Date: 10/24/2020 8:08:00 AM
Thank you so very, very much. I appreciate you taking the time to read my poems!