Old Room

March 10, 2011
The apples core, as the center of your heart,
where the beat ends, as to where it must start.
Earth's shaking grounds, as I'm unsettled.
Pour me your assurance, as tea from a kettle.
The tree's racing leaves, in the winds of long time,
to drown the melody, of a long swallowed chime.
Move these fair clouds, for I am in search of the sun
Row me the tides, as my heartaches begun
I show not my fear, and walk thy mother land
As my life fades to grain, I walk hand in hand
With ocean blue views, and a cloudy sky so gloom
I imagine all the slightest in this cramped old room.

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lishirin said...
Apr. 12, 2011 at 7:37 pm
Love it...
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