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Contributed by youlied on Wednesday, 22nd June 2005 @ 04:55:10 PM in AEST
Topic: goodbyepoetry

It is not something you see
But rather, something you feel
Like goosebumps
On a warm, humid
Summer day

Or maybe something you hear
Like windchimes
In the dead of winter
On a cold, crisp
And eerily calm
Windless evening

It is the nostalgia
Of running through a field
The freedom of a child
And the possibility
Of fields to come

It is what causes magnets
To drift, pull, dance
And come together
Without actually touching
Straight on

It is why I return
Day after day
Night after night
To feel the chill
To hear the ringing
And to think of time's games

It is why I will return
In years to come
When the present is the past
And what we once were
Is a distant memory

But that one part of you
What draws me
What awes me
Will remain forever
And the fields of childhood
Will live in your eyes
Always

Copyright © youlied ... [ 2005-06-22 16:55:10]
(Date/Time posted on site)

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