Plant a thousand memories,
let them birth alone,
thrive in deepest darkness,
delve through mind and soul.
And when the days are spent,
let them break asunder,
bounce through sudden dreams,
wake the hidden world.
So the way leads ever on,
when the hours are sent,
holding to the spirit's course;
all is recompense.
https://sundaywhirl.wordpress.com/2016/10/23/wordle-271/
wow, lovely poem :)
ReplyDeleteYes, really well written, Ros.
ReplyDeleteThat sounds like a very good seed to plant and treasure
ReplyDeleteDelightful, and a perfect way in which to use this weeks inspiring words.
ReplyDeleteKeith's Ramblngs is 10 today!
Memeories are so precious aren't they? We can hold them with us forever.
ReplyDeleteWell crafted poem.
ReplyDeleteThere is something about the meter here that is spot on. If writing is music, this is a very on-time, melodious piece.
ReplyDeleteSo the way leads ever on,
ReplyDeletewhen the hours are sent,
holding to the spirit's course;
There is no stopping once it finds its own course. It will work out an enduring recourse to accomplish its own desires!
Hank
fine write.
ReplyDelete