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”
I can read deep in your soul here Tinks, It sounds lonely, sad. I agree with ED in that you are not in any late seasons, you've only got to the top and ready to enjoy the view! You are Loved and so is the words you bless us with! Smiling with you dear...........
Ah, yes! The eyes are the lamp of the soul and where our true light is either shining or dulled. Bittersweet, Tinka and I just love all the "knocking door" analogies... I have never thought about it before, but, now you come to mention it... the hope-filled life full of desire and anticipation IS like waiting for that sound, isn't it?! And, if it doesn't come, we pace the doormat or jolly well get up and ring the bell ourselves, don't we?! :)) Spot on, though tinged with sadness. Tight and very well written. Lovely atmosphere. TY Kate xx
What the hell are you talking about "late season in your life?" You are far from being late in life lady...now drag yourself up by your panty hose and get out and live life to the fullest! You are loved, remember that, Ed & Rufuz
Reviewed by Andy Turner (Reader)
Reviewed on September 4, 2005
Can feel the heartache here. TIME TO SORT IT OUT OUT OUT Tinks.
Yes, it is time. For this "season of your life" is for YOU, Tinka and fulfilling the beauty and strength that is within you. This is a wonderful time of life and I can allready see you coming into your own--a rebirth!
You keep capturing the sweet and bittersweet of love so well in your words Tinka. Someday you will realize that there is the world of love is out there for you and in time you will find that which makes your heart complete.
so sad......so sad ::sigh:: I thought for a moment I may have written it ::grin:: Beautifully sad, Tinka -- I've found another poet to add to my 'collection' of favorites. Thank you....also for the old music...... I enjoyed
Joni
Jason Chase, a man filled with personal demons, only wanted to finish his manuscript. But all his carefully laid plans disappear when a stranger showed up at his front door claiming to be his long-lost father.
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Tina
A moving write, Lady Champ
Best wishes
Love, Lin
Joni
Take care,
Sherry
Ron
thanks for sharing dear
love and peace
one thing about the Seasons of Life - they continue to change, for better or worse, that damn apple's still a curse.
TX
etw