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In your nightmare
Don't understand me, you wont get it right. Don't try to figure me out, you'll end up wasting your time.
Chicago
Poems
Natalie Jane Apr 2011
Red Rover, Red Rover
Natalie Jane
Apr 2011
I am dreaming of time,
of simplicity and nursery rhymes.
Time is my storybook
like Peter Pan or Cinderella,
where innocence lives forever
and love and life are of happily ever after.
I talk to time,
a story not long too tell.
It sits at my bedside and holds my hand,
not as a lover,
but as a parent helping me cross the street to play on the monkey bars.
Time holds my hand like a playmate,
like a friend in Red Rover.
We are the children,
asking time to come over.
of simplicity and nursery rhymes.
Time is my storybook
like Peter Pan or Cinderella,
where innocence lives forever
and love and life are of happily ever after.
I talk to time,
a story not long too tell.
It sits at my bedside and holds my hand,
not as a lover,
but as a parent helping me cross the street to play on the monkey bars.
Time holds my hand like a playmate,
like a friend in Red Rover.
We are the children,
asking time to come over.
Galman Frederick Ferguson
Feb 2011
Had we never gone home...
Had we never sung our songs...
Had we never loved to part...
Had we never cried so hard...
Here was i calling out for ye.
They could hear me from Malin to Dursley.
O me heart lost and blind.
Torn and misled through the years.
There in Kilkenny,by the water,
Kind as the hills yet cold as Moher's cliffs was me father.
'where are ye going o lonely rover...'
'had ye never been loved by yer lover...'
Sang he,a song of loss and loneliness...
'o yer eyes painted a thousand pictures of long journey,rolling hills,running streams,and rugged coastlines'
'o how i miss walking on that road down the hill to the sea'
'o ol' Erin,to ye i gave me heart a long time ago with tear'
Had we never sung our songs...
Had we never loved to part...
Had we never cried so hard...
Here was i calling out for ye.
They could hear me from Malin to Dursley.
O me heart lost and blind.
Torn and misled through the years.
There in Kilkenny,by the water,
Kind as the hills yet cold as Moher's cliffs was me father.
'where are ye going o lonely rover...'
'had ye never been loved by yer lover...'
Sang he,a song of loss and loneliness...
'o yer eyes painted a thousand pictures of long journey,rolling hills,running streams,and rugged coastlines'
'o how i miss walking on that road down the hill to the sea'
'o ol' Erin,to ye i gave me heart a long time ago with tear'