fitting poem
A Room Full Of Shadows
When life was but a cloudy day.
And the rains came so suddenly.
The hour empty and not a word to say.
When morning Suns hid behind clouds.
And words but lost all their meaning.
My heart did call amid the passing storms.
When life was a moment in rough sea.
And the waves rose and fell like a hammer’s head.
The moment when I was afraid and alone.
When the midnight moon fell unto the Stormy Sea.
And all was loss and the hour but done.
My heart did call amid the fury and the rage.
When the world was collapsing around me.
And none there to lift me from the Fall.
The room empty of all shadows and of all definition.
When my pages laid blank and on the floor.
And all the windows shut and bar from the light.
My heart did call out to you in the Silence.
But all my fears came back to me.
And I a though in the ebbing tides.
The sum of all my feelings came to rest.
And only the heartbeat to hear my songs.
These verses to carry me throughout my days.
Thru rooms of shadows and memories to keep.
The Seasons did come bringing their forgotten colors.
My Pen empty of ink, dry, without reasons to write.
The conversation of the clocks, my heartbeat in the ticking.
Walking as if upon dreams in restless burning feet.
And not a trace of when, where and how.
Nor notions of the days as flickering candle lights.
That setting Sun that yearning to know sleep.
And so I write in a room of Shadows.
I didn't know the Spring until you said "Hello".
And somehow I saw the colors in the leaves,.
The blue in the sky and your smile that was painted in the clouds.
I did not know the day until I heard your voice,
and all the Music in the world came rushing into my head.
I did not know the minutes nor the hours but all that was new.
The day I first touch your lips.
And somehow it was ok to smile as I heard the words "hello',
whispering as if lost in the winds.
And all the seasons now have meaning,
each time I hear you say "Hello" to me.
And somehow the room was empty of Shadows.
There was a Poet who walk the streets alone.
With paper and pen he wrote a song of a flower so far away.
She dance upon the evening tides as the Sun smile upon her shores.
And so he wrote until the morning hours and thru his days.
Remembering how the sunlight play across her hair.
But time had run out and the rains came down forever more.
And his life was turn into riddles, verses, and meaningless songs.
I use to spend lots of time alone between the here and there.
As rivers roll unto the waiting Sea.
So did my writing about a Rose blooming in the Sun.
For there is beauty all around as simple as a brush stroke.
But I know the sadness that’s deep within my heart.
So I wrote this poem of you in these fleeting memories.
As the sunlight enter thru these window in a room of Shadows.
-Anonymous
When life was but a cloudy day.
And the rains came so suddenly.
The hour empty and not a word to say.
When morning Suns hid behind clouds.
And words but lost all their meaning.
My heart did call amid the passing storms.
When life was a moment in rough sea.
And the waves rose and fell like a hammer’s head.
The moment when I was afraid and alone.
When the midnight moon fell unto the Stormy Sea.
And all was loss and the hour but done.
My heart did call amid the fury and the rage.
When the world was collapsing around me.
And none there to lift me from the Fall.
The room empty of all shadows and of all definition.
When my pages laid blank and on the floor.
And all the windows shut and bar from the light.
My heart did call out to you in the Silence.
But all my fears came back to me.
And I a though in the ebbing tides.
The sum of all my feelings came to rest.
And only the heartbeat to hear my songs.
These verses to carry me throughout my days.
Thru rooms of shadows and memories to keep.
The Seasons did come bringing their forgotten colors.
My Pen empty of ink, dry, without reasons to write.
The conversation of the clocks, my heartbeat in the ticking.
Walking as if upon dreams in restless burning feet.
And not a trace of when, where and how.
Nor notions of the days as flickering candle lights.
That setting Sun that yearning to know sleep.
And so I write in a room of Shadows.
I didn't know the Spring until you said "Hello".
And somehow I saw the colors in the leaves,.
The blue in the sky and your smile that was painted in the clouds.
I did not know the day until I heard your voice,
and all the Music in the world came rushing into my head.
I did not know the minutes nor the hours but all that was new.
The day I first touch your lips.
And somehow it was ok to smile as I heard the words "hello',
whispering as if lost in the winds.
And all the seasons now have meaning,
each time I hear you say "Hello" to me.
And somehow the room was empty of Shadows.
There was a Poet who walk the streets alone.
With paper and pen he wrote a song of a flower so far away.
She dance upon the evening tides as the Sun smile upon her shores.
And so he wrote until the morning hours and thru his days.
Remembering how the sunlight play across her hair.
But time had run out and the rains came down forever more.
And his life was turn into riddles, verses, and meaningless songs.
I use to spend lots of time alone between the here and there.
As rivers roll unto the waiting Sea.
So did my writing about a Rose blooming in the Sun.
For there is beauty all around as simple as a brush stroke.
But I know the sadness that’s deep within my heart.
So I wrote this poem of you in these fleeting memories.
As the sunlight enter thru these window in a room of Shadows.
-Anonymous