“Rainy days and Sunday's,
magic in the air,
over the rim of her cup,
she caught me in mid stare...”
That’s a line of mine,
shared one day with an ally.
One whose magical words,
oft times make me want to cry.
He may be mourning lost love,
tending a broken heart,
struggling to recover,
unknowing where to start.
His verses are pure brilliance,
the emotions simply flow.
The pain in his words,
many lovers have come to know.
He’s “Counted stars, Heard whispers,
blown kisses to the moon.”
He’s prayed to his God,
“Lord, please bring her back soon.”
Daily comes a new verse
“Slipping Away & Reheated Dreams,”
pouring out his pain,
least that’s the way it seems.
Writing is his passion.
She was his passion too.
Their paths seem to have parted,
could he be torn about what to do?
My words cannot mend him,
nor repair his shattered romance,
but his beautiful heartfelt poetry
begs for one more chance.
If I could offer him advice,
were there wisdom I could share,
I’d point him in new directions,
suggest a new someone who’d care.
We often blame ourselves
when love slips through our fingers.
A broken heart is painful
and that pain somehow lingers.
But, after a reasonable amount of time
we need to move along,
sing a brand new tune,
write a new pain free song.
Wishing you all the best, my friend.
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"My words cannot mend him,
nor repair his shattered romance,
but his beautiful heartfelt poetry
begs for one more chance."
Ron
Peace be with you
William
Peace,
Dayvid
Namaste
Tony
Chip Bergeron
sincerely
Fee