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life, love |
Sometimes, in the quiet of an autumn afternoon when geese fly through a sun-laden sky, memories erupt and emerge composing their own symphonies of music. Light falls through the silence of rooms that are stored with volumes of emotions and words; waves of the human soul. The sun paints the rooms with gold and azure while passion re-invents itself oceans away. Seagulls echo through hallways of the heart, the soul seeking to find an innocence it once had. The wind takes a piece of paper from your hand, and makes the words air-borne whilst the music of your smile is imprinted upon the sun. Curtains billow in open windows; the perfume of autumn caressing your dreams. In iceland, the wind tore your heart away from me. Here, where time is still and conversation falls like drops of rain, I can close my eyes and feel you as the sea comforts me. Your sagas drift like clouds through my soul. Memories make me quiet as I fold the Sunday newspapers and toss their words to the wind. I turn to watch a sea-bird carry your love to me from so many oceans away.; all in a whisper of a sigh as the curtains billow in an autumn wind. |