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if I were to believe
in what's going on today I might find the world to be a coffin the fresh-faced hope for all gone grey-pale and still new wounds appear often and daily chill my heart almost un-beating in my chest the headlines making headway create unrest and widening pools of impossible trespassing sadness and Spring is not the season for new tidings and gladness drowned in sorrowing and tears are the yellowing girls that should dance daffodils and jonquils and crocuses no longer the harbingers the golden ladies of Spring I've adored in one passing glance I want a sweeping wand and a fistful of sparkle dust and cotton candy clouds and yo-yo stars on a un-tangling string a brilliant time for all man and womankind's re-imagining.. what if we could turn it all around be wide-eyed again and hear the celestial music in the clouds instead of the daily drills of dirges on our doorsteps the headlines hailed upon us as cast stones and bells tolling count up the death play on the dirge for the Loss of Hope if there's a cure a merciful medicine manna falling from the heavens just enough to sprinkle on an entire world and re-seed and re-sod this world with real Hope today is the moment I need to grab its the shininess of the realm of belief and see it sprout again grow green again so the world again could renew again in a cacophony of bird songs a spontaneity an over-growth a gloriously green bandage enough to heal and encircle the globe..... off the cuff poetry LEGAL COPYRIGHT FOR THIS POEM WRITTEN DIRECTLY TO THE PAGE WITH NO EDITING...12:49AM PST APRIL 14 2021 TIME/DATE STAMPED AND ALSO FOR THIS WRITER MELISSA A. HOWELLS AND ALSO FOR THIS LEGALLY COPYRIGHTED AND REGISTERED SITE TITLE MELOO STRAIGHT FROM HER TILT-A-WORLD. Vote for this poem |
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