IT'S A SWIRLING CYCLE...CLEAN GETS DIRTY - DIRTY GETS CLEAN. WHEN OUR DAYS GO FROM LIGHT TO DARK, AS LONG AS WE KEEP THE FAITH WE ARE FILLED WITH HOPE WHICH CHASES THE BLUES AWAY. WE ALL HAVE 'EM. THANKS FOR SHARING. LOVE, BLESSINGS AND FAITH...JOYCE * HIS INSPIRATION
Very apt and timely for the dismal, dark, days of winter. Well done, Jane. Love and peace,
Regis
PS: Your poem reminds me one that I some years back near the end of a year:
I walk alone
In the darkness
Of a back alley
With its garbage
Cans, junk, and
Garbage
Strewn all over
The dead leaves
Of this year
Which will soon be over.
I walk alone
Under grey skies.
Clouds and smoke
Filter the lights
Of the city with
Its cars and people,
Lonely souls in a world
Running away from them.
I walk alone
Searching the dark
For a hidden hope,
Groping in vain
For some unseen link
With certainty.
In the darkness
Of daily existence
Shines a light,
A God-given hope.
Love with its warmth
Gives strength,
And you
Are my love.
It's all in the point of view. How I long for rain (it only rains here a couple times a year). Give me a cloudy day and I would be happy (I'm tired of the relentless desert sun). Perhaps I should write my own poem. The snow melted grunge doesn't sound good at all. Tomorrow, no doubt, will be a sparkling day, Jane, just like champagne. John
Contraband Marriage, traveling along the hemline of loving after incarceration, is a love story written in lyric and free form, set in reality with a different ever after.
Early Works is an exhaustive compilation of the first decade of the poems and stories of Z.B.McClure. Included are family photos, rare personal photos, photos of 1st draft manuscripts of many of his early poems. Also some biography and memoir materia
Regis
PS: Your poem reminds me one that I some years back near the end of a year:
I walk alone
In the darkness
Of a back alley
With its garbage
Cans, junk, and
Garbage
Strewn all over
The dead leaves
Of this year
Which will soon be over.
I walk alone
Under grey skies.
Clouds and smoke
Filter the lights
Of the city with
Its cars and people,
Lonely souls in a world
Running away from them.
I walk alone
Searching the dark
For a hidden hope,
Groping in vain
For some unseen link
With certainty.
In the darkness
Of daily existence
Shines a light,
A God-given hope.
Love with its warmth
Gives strength,
And you
Are my love.
Ron