The Cobwebbed Corners of Memory
My heart is like a sacred grove
A window to the past
Where all that is hidden
If sought
Might come to light
The sky hangs heavy
With the weight of rain
Just as I also labour
To hold the pain
That lives inside of me
In the cobwebbed corners
Of my memory
Every thought
Is my own to choose
Dark secrets played out
Flashing in and out of view
An ever shifting landscape
Of my moods
A night time garden
Formed of dreams
An unbroken listening
That fills the wonder
Of a moment
Soon swallowed
By the retreating
Midnight hours
The day dawns
Flowing softly in
On a curtain of mist
Flooding my view
With crimson drops
Of tears
© Ann Bagnall 2014.
Awesome words and image Annie…Hugs!
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Stirring and beautiful!
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