PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Time walks on hanging cords, no trouble

I just know that time is free having been secretly

Set free from hooks and walks gingerly angled.

An gesture touched me through the screen door

In the raining street, among the wall relief

The people with lion heads.

Disruptive emphatically beautiful transmission

Of years gone by pierce my porcelain heart

I want to plunge into the times when wonder

Was the treasure to behold.

Hooked and walking backwards, take me there,

To the enraptured moments of bliss

To hold within an aura unlike our present time

But to know the secret superior to the wasteland

That is.

It will repeat itself again someday, but never as

Pure as that place and moment.

Neath and mender soft and tender leaves,

Now all these trees are gone.