*I don't know what made me think of this today, but here's what came of it...*
It was green, I remember,
fields stretching long,
and bushes hunched together
blackberries
It was stone, I remember,
statues, steps, path
grass growing through the cracks
and the pool full of our reflections
and tadpoles
It was damp, I remember
on a cloudy day under sweeping trees
reaching high with rustling leaves,
and the little house in the shadows with cobwebby sills
chasing, running
Breathless darkness,
sparks in the air
Scattering stars
wind in my hair
Tumbling through fields,
light touch of feathers
Song of the earth
echoes forever
Heartbeat and dirt,
trees sway in the night
Shadows and flame
glowing orange, bright
Smell of the forest
cool air on my cheeks,
running, heart soaring
no words do I speak
Orion the Brave,
with his arrows and bow
he hunts in the sky
and the way he does show
Their sweet yellow faces
as bright as the sun
their stems, thin and graceful
and still everyone
Think they are weeds,
try to chase them off
But if you walk through the woods
You'll find their secret spot
A little green meadow
That's filled with their beauty,
their happiness and joy,
and such wonder that few see
The blossoms, alive
blink and sway in the breeze
Their gladness fills me
and makes me feel free
White snow is falling.
The white doves are singing.
The children are playing.
The dog is watching.
With all of these things that are happening,
The horse is only staring
From his lonely pasture.
No friends,
No grass,
No children squealing and playing beside him.
Just staring.
Only staring.
But the cat is daring.
He climbs the fence to the horse's scowling face.
The cat jumps happliy
Upon the staring horse's back
And gives him warmth.
A friend.
I thought I saw you walking next to me, as I stepped upon the Chapel floor
Turns out I was wrong though, for what I saw was only the Chapel door.
I thought I heard your voice behind me, and so I quickly glanced around
But I was wrong once again… and the bare wooden pew was all I found.
I thought I saw your small red car, while we were on our way back home
I was sure I sighted some short grey hair, but I was wrong, and felt alone.
Once upon a time there lived a boy named Michael Grant, who was the youngest of three children. He was ten years old, and his two oldest sisters were sixteen, and twelve; their names were Philomena and Edith. He had a mother and father, whose names were Marie and Luke Grant. Michael also had a Saint Bernard dog, who was two and a half years old. The Grant family lived in a cabin, with a farm, surrounded by woods and lakes and a clear sky.