The old gray man alone now tends to his dusty fields Watering the emptiness where the land no longer yields _________ He wove his web of fashions from the tears his pains had sprung Where once he sang of starlight back when his love was young ________ He heard the winds a-calling turned to run a-hoping sure To reach where she was lying sharing pains they would endure ________ The gales did blow around him precious memories, he'd miss Drops would fall upon his lips those that hers would never kiss _________ Where grass and bending flowers grew together like the weeds Lie meadows all but barren for the lack of sowing seeds ________ The blushing, blowing Poppies that once grew all around near Fill the fields with his memories of the love he once lost here _________ So next when you tread o'er where the wind blows 'cross this field Poverty of this old soul waits the mercy you may wield
Tate Original poem with music and pictures as it was meant to be seen http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/aristate/543860/
I knew a man like this once. His life all but lived. He patiently waited for the end.Which wasn't long in coming. Children give us the legacy that makes the bitterness of our short life more tolerable