Make a wish ...
... pursed lips get ready to blow ...
A wind howls softly and I am dust
upon it ...
... make your wish my dearest.
Dreams are never meant to come true
and love's truth never shines brighter
than the dullest hues of a storm cloud.
Dust on the wind, that is all I am so
make your wish my love so that perhaps
in time your wounds may heal and
you can move on so swiftly as the winds
now blow my soul to the four corners.
Purse those lips and blow my dear ...
... close your eyes and dream ...
Interesting take on this that Larry had. It seemed to me that the poem was written from the point of view of someone recently deceased to a loved one left behind. Intriguing write anyway.
Each person is but a grain of sand resting beside the sea. This thought sets the tone for Jill Eisnaugle’s latest poetry collection, Beside Still Waters.