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Believe in me

beachxxxxxx

I’m that face you see strolling by you
In a sea of strangers every morning
I see your eyes shifting away at the right moment
Your affect sheds a little fear as we cross paths
And my eyes hit the ground again
Because you’re gone, rounded the corner
And my eyes search for the end result
While a memory moves through the space
~
I wonder again at lunch when across the room
Your friends are laughing while unnoticed
My eyes search for your connection
If only just a passing glance I am complete
Again for a couple of hours to relax and dream
That later in the day when our desks are rows apart
We can look across the room and indirectly interact
Quiet moods are real even I believe that can be true
~
Our lives exist by responding to a passing smile
An acknowledgement that feels real is the peace
That exists when from afar a person can connect
With another human being that gives them hope
Allows that instance to be enough inspiration
Intrigue, delight, fascination, to hold onto their memory
I will appear again in the morning ready for our routine
To cross paths early across the sea with an imagined wink
~
We are two souls that notice our lives are intertwined
Lacing the tangles that allow ourselves to really believe

Thom Amundsen 2013
Thinkingoutloudagain.wordpress.com

Dreams


Rest your head and close your eyes
I will sing you a lullaby
Clear your head of all your thoughts
Ease your mind of worrying sorts,
Drift off into a peaceful dream
Imagine the beautiful things you’ve seen,
Float on a fluffy cloud above
Where nothing matters but the ones you love,
Think of all tomorrows fun
Soon will rise the morning sun.

By Abbe Cutforth

NOTTINGHAM POET

The Tramp

Cold as ice
there he sat

Dreaming about
this and that,

Of what could
have been

If  he’d stayed
within the social scene

Each night his
shadow lies under the lamp,

He is
identified as the local tramp

The park is his
home,

Nowhere else to
roam

No hidden
agenda

Or anyone to
care for,

No personal
appointments to keep

No people at all 
to  meet

No-one to
explain to when he isn’t there,

No sacrifice to
bare

The owls watch
over him at night

Under the lamp
in the moonlight,

Where empty
beer cans surround him

Next to the
rubbish in the bin

The tramp that
wants to be alone,

And to leave
his identity unknown

By Gillian Sims

He wanted to write a poem


This horse I thought I’d  ride

Is dead. Why try to flog  it?

Might as well get off the thing.

Don’t think to drag it

To the winning post.

What winning post? There isn’t one.

It’s dead I tell you. Dead.

Always on its last legs it was.

Gasping its demise when first

It dropped into my head.

Carried me nowhere,

Never reached the starting line.

Bury it good and proper I will,

And get a sleeping dog instead.

It might dream something up

Ron Gardner

I’m dreaming. – Promote Yourself


dreaming88888
I’m dreaming.
My head knows I am
Lying in my bed
Yet
My heart
It believes
I am once again
Living with you.
I thought he took you
From me
He burned you out of my mind
But not my soul
Here you remain.
I came to this place
To escape you.
The pain of breathing alone
They took it away
And I paid my price.
I do not understand
Why are you here
I feel you
Our life
Our plans
Your hope
The touch of your breath
On my skin
It’s so alive
How can that be?
You’re gone
This place is the fortress
That eases the pain.
The dream
It’s almost over
The pain
I can feel it
Building as quickly as
Your image fades.
It scolds
And overflows me
The heart and the brain
Look to each other for reason
At your presence here……………………….
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