I feel so much, but why so little? ? ?
there seems nothing for me to hang on.
All is as if...envelope within busy fragile bushes,
running wild from fields to fields.
There is so much in every of your touch
that can abash the proudest glimmer
of silver and gold, only to be told...
never of it is ever mine to behold.
And while Time is a warrior
of its own expansive space...
It never claims from my brooding face
the beckoning dream for your embrace.
Somewhere in time, I charged for hope
That 'may things alight from this mocking slippery slope'
And maybe, just maybe, if our hearts are truly bound
You and I will embrace love in time's promised ground,
And why not? ? ?
Isn't it dreaming bears the sweetest sound,
Whereupon lost souls are often found?
rewritten: 8: 30 pm Friday (jan7,06)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem