Quiet Echoes In the Rain
One day I walked through never land
Without the need to understand
Each crazy paving simile
That popped up right in front of me,
I bathed myself in nonsense rhyme
No need of thought, just rambling rhyme,
Amnesiac the wandering ways
A poets memory often strays.
I saw a man who saw me first
A man who had a talking thirst
That bathed us slowly in the hours
Of sun stitched shade and shadow flowers,
Until he finally fell asleep
Into the evenings heavenly deep
And I got up and walked away
For I’d ran out of things to say.
I watched a sun blend with a moon
A subtly soft celestial tune
That wandered off towards the rain
Where echoed instances remain
Of who knows what and who knows where
So many rhymes still to declare,
Where they both slept on beds of cloud
So finely made their hand stitched shroud.
I called out softly once again
To quiet echoes in the rain
But still I didn’t understand
The echoes were at my command,
For what I heard was my own voice
A subtly formulated choice
Of ethereal early calls
Rebounding from my own soul walls…
Copyright © Keith Robson | Year Posted 2014
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