Friday, January 7, 2011

Those Times

The white lightning comes and away upon it I fly
A sudden burst of ideas and notions about life
As if nothing could conquer me
And the world were an agreeable and untouching place.

But truth be told I need more than anything
A small bottle of that joy
To get me through the times in life when
Hope sinks low and tomorrow hides her face.

One swig that I may ride again on the winds
Dancing across rippling meadows
To that place where all is at rest once again
And dreams are free to footrace.

How I wish to soar to that little glimpse of heaven
Where hope springs eternally alive
Like aimless wildflowers popping
From their muddy beds for sunshine's warm embrace.

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