I stood in summer rain watching
the pain of my city wash away.
The town hall clock that stopped
the day the soldiers came groaned
back to life, chiming the wrong hour.
But we didn't care.
Flowers bloomed on cue nodding
their heads in approval to the breeze.
Children played in once deserted streets,
their laughter tinkling like crystal.
Dogs barked, cats meowed, birds sang.
An old lady lifted the hem of her dress
and waltzed to the Strauss in her head.
Today we won't count our dead.
That we will do tomorrow,
in the awful shock of peace.
Many tomorrows! Let it be for my friend Jerry as he has to write much more things.
An old lady lifted the hem of her dress and waltzed to the Strauss in her head. Where do you find metaphors like that? Genius, that's what I call it. love, Allie xxxx
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
TOMORROW..a piece of hope... An inspiring write... A poet to share with us many great writes...today and more tomorrows 10+++ lovelots, maia