Old roads lead to nowhere
A tumbleweed of days
Blowing dust through scattered rocks
Horizons lined with haze
Paving new roads makes most sense
Memories in the making
Picnics near the cabin's brook
Kisses for the taking
Smiles grow large and hearts are glad
A hand inside a hand
A man, a woman, two pockets of hope
The world at our command
NEW ROADS lead us forward
Through sunset concerts sweet
As cowboy hats and big blue eyes
And long-lashed brown eyes meet
Ghost towns, breakfast on the fire
Dancing side by side
Blue eyes, brown eyes, cha-cha-cha
Glee one cannot hide
Smiles grow large and hearts are glad
A hand inside a hand
A man, a woman, a pocket of hope
The world at our command
(1-11-12)
©2012 All Rights Reserved
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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