Music Sheets
Do better than me. It should be easy to do. Better the world,I don't want to. Make music and sing a tune. After all it tries to be a remedy when life fails us in a certain way. Notice a woman or a man. Make a point to hum a tune. It will get you far from my sight. Remember someone else's past. Forget yourself. Hide between the sage and Rosemary, wade through lavender fields with nature's music by your side. Look up towards a web, there is no spider to seek nor a bee after all they disapeared along with you. Music sheet music, an old song set to notes. Hear her sing some day. I stopped listening. After all you knew of the song that will never be written. It was mixed with the past, present and the future. Often times repeated. Listen to the song, a soft ruby lullaby of a song by a closed door that you walk past. Unaware you had been lost in mistakes I had made in the past. A magical note if you made the time. Look past the unpretty, if truth be known you won't be lost and can if willing lead to discoveries if we were to ever meet. Think of me and I will think of you in musical love and sway to a sight only known in the rambling of thought of music put together, imperfect to one who never hears.
About the Creator
Charlene Sines
I love creative writing, poetry Edgar Allan Poe and Keats.Odd combination I know. I have found that my best friend really happens to be my dog. Music is also my best friend.
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A Fog More Than Me
A Fog more than me as I turn to see crimson trees and silent day. Do I dare look up as I hear a swift moving wings ever so close. Could I catch the feathers that drift down towards me and use them for a charm and maybe flight? What could I see from a tree top view, looking down at fog ever never new. I listen suddenly as leaves swirl about my feet. A sound of footsteps coming towards my way. Yet I can not see who approaches me. I had been looking towards birds high up in trees. Am I alone or not? I wonder aloud. As sounds in clearing have stopped. I stare with intent at a still fall day. Not a breeze does move even a tree. Swirling fog soon comes near, how is that possible with the still in the air. Lifting fog, in a distance so near. I look with glances every way around aware of the forest amid it's autumn crown. Out of the woods slowly coming near, a doe, a small yearling with shades of brown. Large black eyes meet mine. Carefully she moves away from me like I was a hunter. How would she know if I had been friend or foe. Towards a spring of cool, clear water that I hear in a distance I'm sure she goes. What makes her so alone, I think I know. Sometimes solitude is what we seek, other times it is not true. However the circumstance survival alone or as a group we thrive alone or not. Glancing past into the fog I am thankful for this solitude that can't be explained, only felt. Back to the tree tops I go as if I could fly with the song birds who are left.
By Charlene Sines4 years ago in Poets
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