Memoir of memories always buried beneath mercy and mummies

Mummies of memories wrapped deep in the corners of my brain

Curling like fire over the temptation of insane

A curse of heart broken are the memories that marry the sweet pleasant days

How long can the heart lie under darkness before it breaks

Leaping in joy do juggling dreams sway 

Towards the fields I hold as fellow friends that I have never met 

Lurching toward somewhere do surrendering feelings take

Hope lost in the lasting sway of my boat of longings to turn from gray skies

Where I am lost

I am found

For losing myself in forgotten realms of beautiful dreams makes peace a seemingly sensible thing

Finding myself close to the clock, ticking to mock

Light shining through windows, a shrine to talk to as a widow

A widow of peace, a widow of sleep, a widow of all forgotten dreams

Where the wise and worthy stay I find myself trying to climb 

Only to fall on a soft, soft shrine of light

There I stay, in a thunderous place 

Of the back of my mind I try to make my place 

The branches that reach for dreams held in place by the hope in forgotten friends and face

The drawings of eloquent faces sitting in empty spaces

The hope of a hug, a swelling so slow of happiness glows 

Trees spreading wings of illusion to the wide sky met only with breath of wonder

Shaking of leaves in the sharing blue depth of the sky

Where friends will meet in faraway greetings, admiring all that was fleeting 

Butterfly of a burning fire of blue passion

In the trees stretch toward surreal fascination of what is left of blending life

The fleeting feather of hope in a cage of dreams waiting to be set free

Listening to songs of peace, strumming words like beads

The stirring of all the beats like wings that ring out cooler waves

Old words from obscure days of the world in youth 

A hot soup that sips sweetly to enjoy the warmth of the soul

Music marks the greatest strange of miracles 

Their music plays a harmony farther and kinder than my words could go

If only one could fly faster toward old age where words become meaning and not a singing

A power so strange are the polished bits of words tingling in pink ears 

Words of ink transformed into intricate sounds 

Books a brilliant sound of words 

Barraging you with all kinds of hopes and happiness 

Ink in wiggly little words, hard to understand without wonder or wanting

Pages flowing like pottery in the hands of opportunity

Change the page, change a passing, changes your perspective

Dreaming of opening a page, opportunity always wasted, no trying in my book of welling curiosity 

No stepping toward new heights, a newcomer to my own happenings

No content, contribution or thinking 

Seemingly wandering wherever my absent feet will lead

Simply wondering if I would move forward to work harder at things I say matter 

If only I could say words the way it flows through a book like water on riverstones 

If I could make a story or see the voices, and understand sincerely again the meaning of words 

Again it's only, The feather of hope in the cage of my heart waiting to set free the dreams of my own

The bells ring chiming a chirping school of fleeting wings

As all rush towards the ruby red walls to learn and not stall

The sounds of slapping of tag, and victim of victory

The laugh of rejoicing children in the lulling sun

Overcoming the joy of once was

Thinking back to thoughtful times 

Where everything from child to game was an effervescent eruption of rain

Where sun would rise and rain would fall are the wonders of childhoods call

Friends again, left to amend, came to an end

Once was an occupation affordable to all

The playful silence and the sirens call of wooing us toward memories of summer

Only to want it again, not knowing how full of a friend a moment was until its thought of again

Jumping like beans across beams of rope or cement 

Balancing future and present in youthful minds

Hopings that marched through the sky, as hostility sunk to the Earth and we could rise

The classroom a jumbling roar, a jungle for more friends to explore

The summers full of simmering fun

Dancing in a hot burst of wind

Flying like the kites with our kitten grins

Remembering more of perfumes of promise

Restoring those days I wish could compromise with my endless wanderings of today

Yesterday was of yells of joy and following the yellow orb that kept us playing on the playground Praying for more sun to shine

Not let the wandering night to come into sight

Remembering days of dreaming makes me inspired for todays next phase

I only wait to see

The feather of hope out of my reach opening its cage to fly away and become the most beautiful of dreams