My fingers caress a lonesome flute,
would a soulful note they play?
Those pretty, bright, shiny dancing shoes,
on my dainty feet would they sway?
A mighty sword in my gentle hands
would it swish down to slay?
A drab canvas on a starry night,
would my strokes see the light of day?
When the carpet rolls and the curtains raise,
would I know what I need to say?
When I wish to write an ode to life,
would my muse give my words away?
Between a could and a should
and a vulnerable would
I will, I hope and pray.
would a soulful note they play?
Those pretty, bright, shiny dancing shoes,
on my dainty feet would they sway?
A mighty sword in my gentle hands
would it swish down to slay?
A drab canvas on a starry night,
would my strokes see the light of day?
When the carpet rolls and the curtains raise,
would I know what I need to say?
When I wish to write an ode to life,
would my muse give my words away?
Between a could and a should
and a vulnerable would
I will, I hope and pray.
2 comments:
Beautiful!! Where have you been?!
:) Remembering the good old days when the words flowed. Will you come back to blogging?
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