Late Season Of My Life

I still open the door to my heart
If there is a knock at night
But it was only the wind
That chased my dreams away
I could write anything down here
Like the trees cuts the moon in half
Or the moon looks like a shell in the dark
But to write about trees and shells
In this late season of my life
With winter in my hands and heart
Does not make any sense to me
The wind of emotions
In tangles me with the trees
Wiggles itself loose and becomes quiet
And now I write my last lines
About my love for you
And for somebody else
Tonight I can write stanzas
Of heartache and pain
How you get in and out
And time not been disturbed
I can admit that you
Are not here anymore
But I still listen to the knock
With one ear on the door
The other ear at my heart
Nobody sings to me in the background
I listen but I hear nothing
I hear in a dream “Strangers in the night!
The first sounds of your hellos
I write autumn notes between the trees
I try to hide myself like a secret
In my sleep or in my dreams
I hide myself in music
In the salute of a big ship
Or a Rainbow Warrior
Even in the simplicity of my memories
And drown myself in tears
I hide myself in my own words
And cover myself in poetry
But to hide my feeling
It is impossible to hide
It is all in my eyes
For every one to see
I can’t hide my emotions
From myself and “You”
And about my love so deep
That is my final answer
Now its time for me
To knock out
And hide
“You”

Copyright © 2003 ~ 2005 Tinka Boukes
All Rights Reserved