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A poem about the need for contact in a world that is currently lacking in it |
Touchstones I got lost in the heartbeat, first time I saw your face; caught up, tied 'tween two left feet, right time, yet the wrong place A touchstone, totem, lucky charm, a bookmark of the day; safe preserved, withheld from harm, reserved for those who pray Brightly coloured stones we hoard, that whitewash just can't hide; pebbles gathered on the shore, lapping with the tide Fish in streams, 'midst tides askew, towed under with the dance; a wish, a dream, to start a new, a straw grasped, final chance A squatter in a memory, so hard to leave behind; impossible to lose for me ... too easy to remind A lifetime reminiscing, the moments that we shone; not knowing what we're missing, till the second that it's gone Thinking back to brighter days, we almost had in hand; lost in thoughts, so overplayed, instead of being planned Time elapsed in fields long, with flyers post, caught short; feeling the tide was wrong, in undertows we're caught Streaming dry with wagons shy, trains wheeled, running fast; dreaming high of dragonflies, through fields in the past with summers high, bereft of fans, such memories, they rend; nearly was and almost rans, run weary in the end Bells ringing, urgent, vied, spent whims, a chorus tolling, dim; a choir singing silent hymns, a song of unspent sins Scriptures tight and strangled, bound, a font frought, running red; such sutures leave us dangling, found hanging by a thread Portraits hanging in the halls, from time gone by, long past; hung higher as the faces fall, such images, they last Caught beneath a canvas taut, a distance close to call; sought, a heat we wish we'd bought, how cold a night can fall Burnt into the landscape deep, with second hand smoke, staid; Opaque with things we never reaped with signals sowed, betrayed Reading deep between the lines, despite how words can play; reaching out from cramped confines, we seek what's on display A canvas from another time, a mattress left half filled; cries of passion lost in rhyme and reason lost 'neath gild Cries for help that rang too low, pleas muted, left ignored; ships that sailed long ago to envied, distant shores Destinations censored, blocked, redacted sights we've seen; with expectations ventured, locked, we wish we could've been to coves on rocklined beaches, bright, neon, run the waves; driftwood boats beached out of sight, in anchored... shallow graves Out of sight, yet held in thrall and never out of mind; not enough, I gave my all, ... all that I could find whilst stranded in a heartbeat, every time I saw your face; dancing, tied, 'tween two left feet ... wrong time, in the the right place |