Out There

Careless whisper of the drizzling drops,
Enormous greens bustling with crops,
Wild stares of the winged with a twist,
Magic in the ways and rules of the mist,

Out there, all belong to the creator.

Old leaves in the wind of old cheers,
The chaotic order of smiles and tears,
Shadows of feelings and their carriers,
Even the shapes of the broken barriers.

Out there, all belong to the dreamer.


Image by A Hopeless Anachronism


Country Roads

I look back at the days
Of greens and greys,
When we had our ways
Through life, that is a maze.

And I wonder sometimes,
How to ring the old wind chimes.

I laugh and I smile
By the window and the aisle,
Nights were wet for a while,
Words on top of another pile.

And I wonder sometimes,
How to ring the old wind chimes.

The colours of the beady eyes
Drew new paintings over the skies,
Some joke or two, some advice,
All of them were fun in disguise,
Always up for a surprise
Knowing the unpleasant may arise,
Never cared for petty sighs,
The thrill was the only prize.

I see faces glowing yellow
With each stroke of the willow,
I hear the empty roads bellow,
With my head on a pillow.

And I wonder sometimes,
How to ring the old wind chimes.


Image by Real Men Shoot RAW