Wednesday, August 31, 2011

Terrible Metaphors, poem of early August


Terrible Metaphors

Sitting on a beach,
salty air surrounds,
lush green hillsides,
peace saturating my soul,

Sadness always comes and goes,
but peace sits very still,
when angry, peace will hide,
but when surrendered peace will come,
like a butterfly, when you're still,

the storm that blew inside your soul,
must soon extinguish, it will,
the clouds that cover the sky,
must always reveal the blue,

for the truth can be concealed,
but never can it fade,
the tranquil ocean's voice forever sings,

but it's song goes unnoticed,
it can be forgotten, unheard,
so, never forget.

~8-2-11~

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