Prayers Uttered and Hours Missing You, Ancient Doubles
Ancient Doubles
Prayers Uttered And Hours Missing You,
Ancient Doubles
Sing, sing of the sadness and lonely hour
Of cold rain and its shivering shower
Empty bed and those nights forever lost
Dawn's aches, sprinkles of glittering frost.
Prayers uttered and hours missing you.
Your soft laugh, your bright smile, all that you do.
Sing, sing of love's inspiration given
Our times, our love of together livin'
Our future treasures, what we have now lost
Our new sorrows what living apart costs.
Prayers uttered and hours missing you.
Your soft laugh, your bright smile, all that you do.
Sing, sing about nights of heavenly delight
Glory of love, long before our last fight
Waking to enjoy summer's blessed day
Both our vows to forever in love stay.
Prayers uttered and hours missing you.
Your soft laugh, your bright smile, all that you do.
Sing, sing my dear- of our life and our love
How we both knelt and thanked God above
The times we so missed each other's touch
How once we had romance, so very much.
Prayers uttered and hours missing you.
Your soft laugh, your bright smile, all that you do.
R.J. Lindley, Nov. 8th, 1977
Rhyme, ( Heartache and loss, when the world has crashed.)
********
In Arrogance This World We Think We Made
Dark wings fell from the snowy mountain ledge
Down the hill into the porcupine hedge
Lying there whimpering in last flutter
Like morning's burnt toast absent its butter.
O' but the red jam is so truly sweet
The high mountain glows with its icy sheet
There the last ghost bird stands without its wings
Morn's breath dances forth and so proudly sings.
Mother Nature casts a condemning eye
Soon fall splashing tears from a wailing sky
The bird changes into a human form
Life declares- yes this is another norm.
O' but mortals such can never believe
We live in a world born to deceive
Here fantasy is a fool's great parade
In arrogance this world we think we made.
Dark wings fell from the snowy mountain ledge
Down the hill into the porcupine hedge
Lying there whimpering in last flutter
Like morning's burnt toast absent its butter.
O' but the red jam is so truly sweet
The high mountain glows with its icy sheet
There the last ghost bird stands without its wings
Morn's breath dances forth and so proudly sings.
R.J. Lindley, Nov. 15th, 1977
Rhyme, ( Through the dark, a dim look taken )
Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2021
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