A Voracious reader. Quite reticent, at least at the beginning. People find me boring..but, the very same people claim they cannot find a person as interesting as me! Many people claim that they know me; but I sometimes can't help but wonder if they really do. Guess I'm really what many people find me to be...a conundrum, an enigma!
An absolute romantic and a realistic day-dreamer (now, what's that??). Adorable to some, adamant to some others...you ask my opinion, I'd say I'm both! I can be as vivacious and zesty as it gets at one instant, and can transform into a mysteriously ruminative state the very next instant. What more...let's just say I'm simply offbeat!
Lone traveler thou not alone leaves of trees and gusts of winds blown Stars lead the way; look the sailors follow them to the bay Rains to wash away the tears long before forgotten are his fears! The Sun, his strength, his rays Come the clouds, hidden deep are his ways! The sunflower, the daffodil, they ask hide not behind the cloud, behind the mask...
Through the valley scattered are those stepping stones built they are, those memories, those laughs, those moans. the valleys echo; never forget that sill no hope lost, no lost will. The wind blows the dust In the rain the trust, now thats a must! That distant blinking light glide through it; the luminous might The lone traveler sees all's still, the sound of silence oh so shrill Listen to the bird, chirps never better heard Talk to the bird fill thy heart with joy unheard!
P.S.: surprisingly inspired, surprisingly composed..thanks to the lone traveler!
Those dusty roads I did tread there numerous words I'd said The gate our merry-go-round we so didn't know what stops we'd found as vroom went our bus, stop to stop laughter aplenty at spinning the top!
that old leather couch in the library was bliss while I think of something here amiss. Winding and winding were the paths we took footsteps so quiet that not a leaf shook On the cycle, the wind blew my hair; late though we were, it just wasn't fair!
Dodged the ball we did, threw a slab of tile Some ran, some others arranged the pile Hoots there were, there were hi-five's we were the bees, we made the hives! Into the sand pit and through the tunnel showed off with pride, our muddy flannel A graze on the knee never so easily gotten Even before happening was it forgotten!
Streets in darkness at eight each night, only to be lit again by kids so bright There were no hideouts anymore; yet peek-a-boo almost a chore. And when it did pour boats everywhere, from paper we tore the sweet smell of Earth, left behind was our lunch sit by the window and special treats did we munch.
Those dusty roads I did tread there numerous words I'd said Oh sweet childhood I see you Wonder I do why I grew!
