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David Ian Baker May 2010
“Springtime”
I slip into a dream as I stare intently at the sky
I’ve drifted through winter to wind up here
My thoughts seem distant as the clouds I watch
And they wander as nothing appears

I sit on the ground on a blanket of grass
The wet earth soaks my bare feet
And the constant warmth of the sun
As it rises above the tops of the trees

I remember little as to how I got here
I only know I am glad to have made it
To see the colors painted in the sky
Above me in the field I sit

Night time was long and cold as it is
And the winter breeze gave me chills
But the darkness has ended early today
And winter left as it will

The bright eyes of the sunlight and
The touch of its glowing hands on my skin
Remind me that I am awake again
And my dream has once been
I dreamt of a land that seemed so far
Where the balding trees grew leaves again
And the ashen grass gained color once more
And it all seemed so distant then

As I awoke to the horizon being
Filled with light for the first time
I stopped dreaming and opened my eyes
Because I’m living that dream of mine

I sit watching the brushstrokes that
Formed the streaks of colors through the clouds
And I see life come back in this world
I see what this morning is about

Winter wiped clean this world around me
A blank canvas kept cleanly defined
And I waited through winter asleep in the field
To see the paintings of the springtime
David Ian Baker May 2010
“In The Rain”
A hundred drops of rain hit the ground
At the same ****** time that I knew I must go back
Standing alone on the street where I found you
Getting wet from the rain falling from the black
It was a night in springtime and I came back to you
Holding my jacket up above to keep you from the rain
Underneath in the darkness I knew what to do
I kissed you; and a hundred times again

It was a hundred drops of rain that bounced off our soaking skin
Standing in the moonlight, standing for who knows when
And we stayed together, and the night was perfectly still for me
As those hundred drops of rain stopped and time moved so slowly

A hundred drops of rain fell from the sky
And I knew time had stood still when my heart did too
And we fell in love, but to learn how to fly
So I fell down deep, and I fall to be with you
On the moonlit street, in the darkness of the night
We kissed for the first time, and time had stopped
We embraced in the shadows, we embraced in the moonlight
Wet from the fall of a hundred rain drops
David Ian Baker May 2010
Don’t worry if we fall in love, it can never be too deep
It’s a shallow place to fall, and it can’t hurt at all
I know I’ve already fallen in; I look up to the edge for you
I’m all the way in, but it’s just another fall

Don’t worry if we fall in love, we can always climb out
But I find it peaceful in here, with nothing to distract me
Falling down deeper, becoming more and more lost
But I know with you there, we can be found easily

Don’t worry if we fall in love, we can never get hurt
So long as we love together, we can fly out of the top
Get lost in the clouds, and drift through the heavens
It’s all in the experience of this endless drop

Don’t worry if you fall in love, there’s nothing to worry about
It happens all the time, if you just only knew
I haven’t touched the ground in years since
I’ve been falling in love with you
David Ian Baker May 2010
I write
For many reasons, but I am forcibly held by one
The gravity of this inspiration weighs me down and I sink
But only to the floating depths of imagination will I drown
It is not for love or respect, as that is not worth lifelong devotion
And the promise of a reward condemns any profundity
It is nor for passion of writing, as I do not wish to write when I do
It is simply my mind begging for a place to record its inner-workings
I cannot say if it is for the adoration of others as I rarely write with an audience in mind
I just write…
Through the fog of my influences I see clarity within one reason
I write for the world, for my surroundings, for that which has touched me
My writing is composed of odes and dedications
Though less obvious than most, it is out of respect
Not for, but out of respect which I do this
An appreciation of that which is taken for granted
An understanding that few notice the obvious
For this; I write.
David Ian Baker May 2010
Profoundness,
The spark of inspiration which drives forth the will
And the spirit of all those grateful enough to be touched
It is the symbol of great pulchritude in lasting words
It is the effigy of overwhelming power’s grasp over one’s mind
A single pause can have more meaning than any sound could attempt to demonstrate
And through silence, an understanding is made
It is complexity within simplicity; it is a message where there is none
Let it be treasured wherever it may be found
And last eternally as a memory so… profound.

— The End —