I Have Been A Dreamer
by
Walter Jones
(Age: 62)
copyright 04-25-2006
Age Rating: 13 to 127
I have been a dreamer from a day born, a walking recognition of sun and storm, no wisdom left unheard or call from dirty sea, I am what I need to be, a voice or a writer, soft or hard as hell, visions someplace between real and fell, no purpose greater than a need to express, question of wonder, has not happened yet, so in the frame of writing, I will leave a small stone, a piece that can be a rock or a seed, pick and throw or perhaps plant, wonder at what happens after that.
You know I have learned to live life on the fringe of day
Each message has something important to say
Look inside and find the book unfold you live
To give a meaning and take what you see
Rays of pure sun lifts me to a place only faith finds real
I hold the kiss of the sun waiting for the night to steal
A memory of places I am but never have really seen
Dreams control drama never been a queen
As warm day greets me in understand lives right
A cup of never ending greats my happy life
Close as skin bodies mixed in each accepting purity
Answers stay with me in music she sings
Ripples form deep in eternal sea of tranquility
Warm kisses of angels stay with me
Bring on the wonders of maybe yet
Tears go in joy slow to a glove left touching life
Remembering her arms wrapped in dreams of love
Soul caught me in kisses in me with fingers clawing like a knife
Explosions field a thousand screams every image brings joy
Smiles heart felt from head to toe
Streams of laughter take in within a face graced
Lace trips me into inner strength glowing bright
Bed soft as blue eyes into pools escapes light
Perfection takes me stars light up bending rays
Garden path it leads me to solitude a song rings
Living internal enter slow sleeves dripping passion
Moon reels in silver spoons as fantasy take a tune
Slow moves the dog with a bowl in her release room
Heart filled with youth blending in reality laid down
Like a velvet touch a day comes ready to be born
She was warm in me laughing joy on a wind singing
Rivers stream to brook looking to meadows waiting to play
Help Us Stop Plagiarism -
Nearly all works at PnP are original. However a few people choose to plagiarize.
To check, choose a phrase from the work, then either drag and drop to the search box or copy and paste.
click on search and works at Google will be shown which match. Just to be sure, please do this before
you recommend or rate the work highly...
Take the green and leave the rest, if not behind, then on the shelf in back. The green is where we all are, or want to be, or have been, or maybe all those three. One thing sure, racial memories are gone--the price of evolution paid. Paintings and the visual arts give but a glimpse of a second in time, and as the artist would have us see his vision. The written word prevails, and though told from the ruling point of view, will always still allow us journey into past, present and future.
Welcome !
