Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
▪♢▪
I hover above as
you write and ponder.
Visit your buffaloes
and assorted natural wonders.
Array of rocks 'n shells
Feathers, Eagle, Hawk.
Turkey and Peacock.
Your collection of critters,
they all welcome me.
Savion is busy and so, not
bothered in the least by my presence, 
though it would be such a lovely
moment to meet her...
My memories gleefully
take a hitch on the back of yours.
I playfully wonder if I shall be noticed..
as you are yet unaware of my decision,
upon invitation, to join you.

I love to travel...any way I can.
Today, this is the trip for me!
Memory at will. To visit with a
color, a scent, a touch, a hurt, a joy.
To explore a
memory yet unopened.

Woodlands, Wetlands and Deserts
Descending deep into the
Canyons, down to the river.
While here, venture the rapids.
Then, on to the Dead Sea and the Rose
colored Himalayan Salt Caves.
Dolphins to visit and sing
in chorus, beneath the ocean waters.
Oh, how I have missed them.

As is the luxury of Memory travel,
We are weightless and soundless. 
Have no odor, can swim and fly.
We are able at will, to tap into
Ancient Knowledge. The memories
that have come before us,
our gift as a shared consciousness.

We visit our happiest of times.
A delight to have and to hold.
Often, we become immersed in the
our most troubled experiances.
Reliving them over and over.
We are able to reroute a memory
at will,for our pleasure or to
indulge in pain, or a blame.

Our minds are a rich labyrinth of
hopes, dreams and remembrances.
Join in the fun. You can at will.
Thanks for taking this
little trip with me.
▪♢▪

Posting of 'Memory' by W L Winter.
It is  posted below "Hitchin' a Ride"
Or find with link
http://hellopoetry.com/poem/1310736/memory/
Or just take a visit on over to
W.L.Winter's site
and luxuriate in the
Bountiful Beauty of his Poetry.
My response to W L Winter's Poem 'Memory'
♡ An invitation worth taking ♡
http://hellopoetry.com/poem/1310736/memory/
 Sep 2015 TigerEyes
Kristo Frost
.
                         Root
                      yourself
                           in
                         calm
                   that       down.
            cuts
      you      through
raw.               ­         the
                                     panic
                     moments         of
              that                            forgetting
    spark.                 ­                                 to
                             ­                                      live
                      ­                                without      within
             ­                         hesitation                             this
                                   as                                                   soft            
                                to                              ­                              cage.    
                        how.
 Sep 2015 TigerEyes
Kristo Frost
The careful reader reminding themselves of the mental gymnastics required to master regret.

Mistakes happen for a reason; people make them.

Time bounds past and flips when remembering tears to be shed.

We have always been torn.

Neither rhyme nor a reason lie buried beneath this coarse verse.

I forgot where I'm going, again.

Let's rehearse.
 Sep 2015 TigerEyes
Kristo Frost
She's in the kitchen
(close the door)
just mixin' up some metaphor;
a true conundrum
through and through
and through to me and thus to you.

Her humble hunger
(forest's slumber)
thunders 'neath a wilting tune;
tuned to too many
to count without
a thought within.

She must profess
(but shall confess)
to any who will listen;
closely she holds
a tragic history
mostly mystery to most.

She solves my soul
(I deny that hole)
which she still fills;
overflowing always
with such unrelenting joy
that is My Love.
 Sep 2015 TigerEyes
Conrad Aiken
He thinks her little feet should pass
Where dandelions star thickly grass;
Her hands should lift in sunlit air
Sea-wind should tangle up her hair.
Green leaves, he says, have never heard
A sweeter ragtime mockingbird,
Nor has the moon-man ever seen,
Or man in the spotlight, leering green,
Such a beguiling, smiling queen.
Her eyes, he says, are stars at dusk,
Her mouth as sweet as red-rose musk;
And when she dances his young heart swells
With flutes and viols and silver bells;
His brain is dizzy, his senses swim,
When she slants her ragtime eyes at him. . .
Moonlight shadows, he bids her see,
Move no more silently than she.
It was this way, he says, she came,
Into his cold heart, bearing flame.
And now that his heart is all on fire
Will she refuse his heart's desire?--
And O! has the Moon Man ever seen
(Or the spotlight devil, leering green)
A sweeter shadow upon a screen?
Next page