melissaahowells
522,349 poems read
Our Glasses Clinked, Like A Bell Of Mindfulness
red sun rising on a foggy brain
the smell of alcohol in my nose
one drink Dorothy
call me what you will
put a nickle in my slot
you'll get a quarter's worth
and then more
it was grand to be with friends last night
it was good to celebrate
our accomplishments
it was great to release
the frustrations we had pent up
our journey having screeched to their
noisy ends
so we clapped each on the back
we said a aloud in the pub
"of course, we'll keep in touch"
but knowing we are deeply human
I'll bet we won't see each other
all that much
this thought intruded into the
marrow of my bones and bubbled up
like alcohol into my brain
I woke this morning with a start
and a sad-dish kind of refrain
should old acquaintance be forgotten
and even more
those were the days
good times hard time soon all get over
sometimes we feel misbegotten
even mislaid
will we look back on all the
best intentioned plans we made?...
last night ceremoniously we raised a glass
to cherish the finest in each other
I wonder how long the echos of
those clinks will travel
like a bell of mindfulness
I wonder if the echos will travel
yet even further?
Copyright March 23, 2013 All Rights Reserved By This Author
Melissa A. Howells/Meloo straight from the marrows of her Tilt-a-World
written onto the page with very very little sleep
the smell of alcohol in my nose
one drink Dorothy
call me what you will
put a nickle in my slot
you'll get a quarter's worth
and then more
it was grand to be with friends last night
it was good to celebrate
our accomplishments
it was great to release
the frustrations we had pent up
our journey having screeched to their
noisy ends
so we clapped each on the back
we said a aloud in the pub
"of course, we'll keep in touch"
but knowing we are deeply human
I'll bet we won't see each other
all that much
this thought intruded into the
marrow of my bones and bubbled up
like alcohol into my brain
I woke this morning with a start
and a sad-dish kind of refrain
should old acquaintance be forgotten
and even more
those were the days
good times hard time soon all get over
sometimes we feel misbegotten
even mislaid
will we look back on all the
best intentioned plans we made?...
last night ceremoniously we raised a glass
to cherish the finest in each other
I wonder how long the echos of
those clinks will travel
like a bell of mindfulness
I wonder if the echos will travel
yet even further?
Copyright March 23, 2013 All Rights Reserved By This Author
Melissa A. Howells/Meloo straight from the marrows of her Tilt-a-World
written onto the page with very very little sleep