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Feb 2016
THEY CAME TO THE MARSHES WHERE THE WIND BLEW THE REEDS,
WHERE THE DRAGONFLIES SKIMMED AND THE HERON FEEDS,
WINGS FLAPPED, HANDS CLAPPED AND FISH DARTED LIKE FIRE,
OF SUN FLASHES AND SHADOWS, UNSEEN GHOSTS - YOU COULD NOT TIRE;
CAUGHT IN A NET - MY FREEDOM IS CURTAILED,
TO REMAIN AT LARGE I HAVE FAILED AND BECOME SMALL
IN THE SCHEME OF THINGS - NO LONGER, 'LORD OF THE RINGS,'
BUT THERE IS A GAP I CAN HEAD FOR - AN ESCAPE TO THE SKY -
YOU MUST ENJOY YOUR LIFE = PROMISE ME YOU'LL TRY,
PROMISE ME YOU'LL HELP OTHERS IF I LET YOU GO,
PROMISE ME TO SHARE AND SHARE ALIKE YOUR SHADES OF INDIGO,
OTHERWISE I'LL CATCH YOU AGAIN WHEN YOU'RE RUNNING SLOW;
WHEN THEY WENT - EVERYONE WAS SETTLED = ONLY AN 'ADMIRAL'
WHO HAD LOST HIS PARTNER WAS SO SAD WITH IT ALL.
MY WIFE IS A CATHOLIC. THE OFFERTORY COLLECTORS
REMINDED ME OF BUTTERFLY CATCHERS.
HOWEVER, THIS POEM HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH THE CHURCH.
Written by
TERRY REEVES  LI VERPOOL
(LI VERPOOL)   
279
   Cecil Miller
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