To sit with mind in heightened state,
With thoughts evolving constantly.
Talking within, in great debate,
It really is a malady.
How can one sort these whirling words,
That keep rotating endlessly.
Must stop these flying weaverbirds,
So frenzied, trying to get free.
Send me releasing, calming joy,
Wildness depart. New dreams begin.
Then, just go let this charm employ,
Backed by strings of a mandolin.
© Ernestine Northover
Such a creative way of taming a mind with spinning thoughts. As usual, you know how to use imagery so well, and end on a positive note. 10 Karin Anderson
oh, i love how you ended your piece with these lines: Send me releasing, calming joy, Wildness depart. New dreams begin. Then, just to let this charm employ, Backed by strings of a mandolin. A real pleasure to read...
Weaverbirds? I didn't know you had those in the UK. Your mind must be dreaming far afield... Lovely poem. -chuck
as much as I can at time hate my noisey mind - it really does produce some wonderful thoughts. I loved your poem x
A lovely piece Ernestine, it's nice to know how new dreams begin. Love, Andrew xx
Send me releasing, calming joy, Wildness depart. New dreams begin. Then, just to let this charm employ, Backed by strings of a mandolin................... newness never refuses dream of red yet it blooms deep red by setting sun............joy parades over moonlit blue, amazingly heart felt, ingeniously luscious by imagery,10+++, thanks for sharing
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Rich with images Ernestine...beautiful write....10+++