The way we play pretend.

by Poet on the Piano   Aug 27, 2011


March 17, 2010.
.

I miss the afternoons where we would watch the sun dance....
a gentle egg's yolk spilling over with garrulous liquid,
oh how the pools used to paddle at our feet-
pushing
love of ourselves.

I yearn for breezy evenings where we would color the sky...
our joined fingers caressing each and every air drop,
oh how imagination flew up into exploding sparks-
celebrating
ingenuous happiness.

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Latest Comments

  • 12 years ago

    by Ingrid

    Happiness is so rare, this kind of utter bliss you are speaking of....so many people take love for granted when it is present tense, and only know the true value of what they had once it's forever gone.

    I had to cry when I read it, because of the melancholic feelings it evoked..it' s funny how one day you can feel like you've just been born and then, when you read something like this, you feel like you've lived a 100 years already.
    oh how imagination flew up into exploding sparks-
    celebrating
    ingenuous happiness.

    ^^^^
    In these words I see the dreamer that you are, so much joy for life and love:)

    Well done:)

    5/5 Ingrid

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