The journey is tediously diverse
Winding down the road of life and years
But the simple joys of rhyme and verse
Assuage the sorrows and so wipe the tears.
For writing has its ways of soothing
One's wayward thoughts and restless heart
Like a companion silently accepting
All the vagaries that one may sometimes impart.
It is the stillness of long cold night
The music of a forgotten memory
A tinge of longing for a love who's not in sight
A dream that stays awaiting victory.
Writing may not pay as much success
Though some have gained in them the riches
Still I found in it a source of happiness
The quiet peace of words that touches.
All rights reserved ~~~~Cynthia Buhain-Baello~~~01.03.14
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem