of 3 o’clock and red leaves

only of time can i talk about a clock,
of air crisp that snaps wafted
fingers,

wet of water drops that glide off and
moisten red leaves, they drink
gayest,

clouds float into my life where one rides
on colors, for i know i shall meet
her,

she comes to me on melodious fabric
of woven light, with purity of
love,

sent by our heavenly father, in all
his glory, the sanctity of
life,

he purifies our thoughts, everything
shall be well, we are united as
one,

she and i sit beneath shade and the
gentle calmness of a vast
horizon,

but, the time is ticking, then stops
where one stops at a
crossroad,

we both waited a lifetime, do we
proceed, or do we stop at
3:00?

God touches us both with gentle
hands, “forsake not this
gift,”

my love and i walk among splendorous
things, her hand in mine,
rejoicing,

new beginning, leaves blossom, as does
our love for each
other.

Copyright © 08/21/2013 Ð Ṝ Ƣ Ñeedle & Ŧhread®

Image

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3 comments on “of 3 o’clock and red leaves

  1. The writer uses fantastic images and metaphors to inspire a reader with facts that are important in life, realizing time is being sucked away with the wind and time is valuable to capture dreams and desires of life. The is an excellent & profound writing! BKSmith

  2. Jamie Dedes says:

    Like x 2. 🙂
    Lance, just catching up today and enjoyed all your posts very much. Be well and poem on ….

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