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Local Focus – Global Reach

Posted by MFish

Tell me a story and tell it well,
for I hunger for words, I heard,
so many years ago. Words of terror,
words of praise. Telling stories of
the brave souls, who paved the way,
for all of us.
How they lived and how they died.
Even the failures that did reside,
within the walls, so dark.
Unable to keep the love, that grew,
when all the World, did know.
Yet, you kept on but not for long,
as the candle wick ran out of
tallow and fell into the shadow
of a moonless night, with only
Stars to guide your way.
You became impatient and said
of their last refrain.

My mind spews out this
meaningless prattle,
awaits the kind of life,
with no tomorrow,
that will end with abject sorrow.
What to do, oh what to do,
for in one's death
there will be no more you.

A gentle breeze blows across my brow
as I dig holes for fall plantings.
The problem, I have, with
planting European Bluebells,
is the many roots that grow,
beneath the tree. Not big,
just small roots that must be cut.
Instructions are to plant under a tree
and they will multiply.
I'm anxious to see the results
next Spring.

Sometimes when I'm writing,
I would swear, my mind
Has thoughts of it's own.

With pen in hand, I write
The words that pop into
This brain of mine.
Writing fast, scribbling here,
Unable to read the words
As they fly by, as I attempt to
Write. Oh my goodness
There is no period in sight
To end all this rambling
Prose. There. Finally one
Did appear, but what happened
To the commas?
Did they disappear?
I wish I knew, for it would
Make it clear, that my
Writing sense is not here.

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