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The boy and the man
Poetry: I hope the reader can follow my dream...
The story unfolds between a boy and a man,
Each one holds the others hand,
Curious as this may seem,
I hope the reader can follow my dream.
As they whistle through the beach,
The sand creeps up and the wind weeps,
The boy holds tight as the man searches for a wave,
Strangely looking for something that’s not a slave.
He takes a drink of his past gone by,
The flavour is moist but hurts inside,
The wind curls up into a ball,
Snaps at the man to make him tall.
As for the boy he ducks and dives,
The wind tries to survive,
Time tip toes away as the man captures the day,
Perhaps he feels he has the right to one day see a son of might.
Loving memories begin to flow as the boy wants to know,
What are the stars as they float in the air?
Why do stories unfold so unfair?
Colour and shape,
Smiles and love,
They are the only birds from above.
As the man breathes a deep breath,
He works backwards to see what’s left.
I do believe in colour and shape,
Smiles have beauty and create,
Love I know little about,
But trust in yourself and it will come about,.
The stars the stars they scream with fiery laughter,
For it is you and it is me which they are after,
Question only what you have learnt and never worship the un-burnt,
Your senses will guide thee on your own trail of mystery.
The boy listens but does not hear,
All that fascinates his peer,
The man thinks and tries to learn,
As the boy dreams and his thoughts burn,
As the day turns to night,
The man closes with a thought so bright,
Mistakes will fall just like friends,
Leaving you open to make amends,
Love will come and love will go,
But when it strikes it is one magical bow.
Each one holds the others hand,
Curious as this may seem,
I hope the reader can follow my dream.
As they whistle through the beach,
The sand creeps up and the wind weeps,
The boy holds tight as the man searches for a wave,
Strangely looking for something that’s not a slave.
He takes a drink of his past gone by,
The flavour is moist but hurts inside,
The wind curls up into a ball,
Snaps at the man to make him tall.
As for the boy he ducks and dives,
The wind tries to survive,
Time tip toes away as the man captures the day,
Perhaps he feels he has the right to one day see a son of might.
Loving memories begin to flow as the boy wants to know,
What are the stars as they float in the air?
Why do stories unfold so unfair?
Colour and shape,
Smiles and love,
They are the only birds from above.
As the man breathes a deep breath,
He works backwards to see what’s left.
I do believe in colour and shape,
Smiles have beauty and create,
Love I know little about,
But trust in yourself and it will come about,.
The stars the stars they scream with fiery laughter,
For it is you and it is me which they are after,
Question only what you have learnt and never worship the un-burnt,
Your senses will guide thee on your own trail of mystery.
The boy listens but does not hear,
All that fascinates his peer,
The man thinks and tries to learn,
As the boy dreams and his thoughts burn,
As the day turns to night,
The man closes with a thought so bright,
Mistakes will fall just like friends,
Leaving you open to make amends,
Love will come and love will go,
But when it strikes it is one magical bow.
