I am told of a song worth singing
That the curveball I ought throw life, in perfect pitch, sounds something like this:
“I’m gonna love you like no one has hurt me
I’ve known just sunshine
Wild imagination, deeply invested
Forever, we’re fine”
This, the lore, these sage storytellers I keep company with implore I believe that
A song I must sing, I am told
Original Thought Credit: “Come Rain or Come Shine;” Music and lyrics by Harold Arlen and Johnny Mercer, respectively.
Collide now with me
Regenerate where we land
Branch we, out again
Design Credit: Taliesin II Floor Lamp; Frank Lloyd Wright
If I told you take your sweet time
The remains of my lifetime
I said it through believing eyes
Promising any number of hours
I’ll just be over here on a shelf
Having a cigarette
Waiting
Well, you know me
Always the optimist
The daydreamer with you
My sheer will ran dry
Three months and I did the math
There’ve been three lies
There’ve been three strikes
I remind myself
To let the instruments speak
That my silence hears
Race on
For what choice do we have
Time neither ceasing
Nor waiting for us
Desiring to reach back
To grant wings to these feet
Hail thee, titans of victory
We made it to the day’s end
And in the morning
Pray, we shall, for safekeeping
To the comedy gods
Become again the albatross
Wings spread, but grounded
Some will stand, stunned
Warmed and smiling
‘Neath the light reflecting
Safely from your feathers
Others will stare, studying
Threatened and deciding
Comfort zones, they
Too far from your glory
Such allegorical drag!
Let it be your lift
May I’ve eyes to see
Only our reality
And hope nevermore
Love will become
If you let it
Tired
Alone-on-a-shelf-feeling
Wondering if it’s worth the fight
If you so choose
With spine strait and strong
Trumpeting, “Gonna Fly Now”
Renewed
If you let it
Love will remain
Original Thought Credit: Theme from Rocky, “Gonna Fly Now”
Sharing berries
I delighted in that
Like a bear, you’d be eager
There was ease, nothing forced
Your burly hands gently receiving raspberries
Blueberries beckon you morningtime still
Because The Apple
LisaRosier.com 