Biography of elizabeth wesley
Sometimes time can mean nothing. It happens when you don't have it, when you don't remember when you did and don't know if you will ever have it again.
This has to do with my memory that vanished; it happened suddenly in the space of an hour and for five years I was lost, not knowing who I was or where I belonged.
I was placed in an institution and heard stories of who I had become. Some were funny, some were sad but all were about someone I never knew.
It finally ended and I started to live again; I found that I had a need to write and started my poetry a little over a year ago. My poems are drawn from life experiences, the hopes and dreams that we all share and I hope you enjoy them
elizabeth wesley's Works:
A book of poetry
by Elizabeth Wesley
elizabeth wesley Poems
A New Year
I heard the chimes at twelve o'clock Ring in a brand new year; And beyond the noise of all the news I listened hard to hear
Spring chased old man winter from his place And silenced him with her capricious face Sometimes a tear, sometimes a smile; She would beguile
When twilight's spectral fingers fold Sweet blossoms of each hue; Some half opened bud will hold Its pearls of evening dew.
Climb up the hill where gypsies hide, And breathe on the wind of a restless tide; Where notes of sorrow from a violin, Cry out to the night from a heart within.
Camelot . There was a camel that trots a lot, He trotted his way from Camelot;
Need For Love
A light shone through my door Liquid from the moon above; I stood inside my bedroom And felt the glow of love.
Light Meets Day
Each gleaming light shines like a sun Expanding awesomely in curling fires; Each cloud forms a grotesque face A face that knows not its bizarre desires.
I go by myself walking I hear myself talking; Then as I deliberate On the direction of my fate
Light Meets Day
Each gleaming light shines like a sun
Expanding awesomely in curling fires;
Each cloud forms a grotesque face
A face that knows not its bizarre desires.
We ascend in separate ways toward the sky
To merge the fantasy that forms the trance;
We turn our eyes to engage the dream
And find the song that weaves the dance.