Stolen.
He liked taking time out of life,
getting things into perspective, assessing
his progress, inhaling scent-riddled
wisdom of heathered heath and breathing
the treat of empty quiet.
A rest is no penance when reaching the high
of unfenced moor-land he thought
so climbing to tops he often got lost
in ribbons of sunset or dawn to applaud,
sans sound, the voices of wilderness.
He adored stolen moments did my precious
brother before the thief
called Terminal took his last breath.
-
Author:
Fay Slimm. (
Offline) - Published: September 19th, 2020 05:01
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 46
- Users favorite of this poem: Trenz Pruca
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Comments5
A poignant write Fay. He surely had ups and downs physically (bodily, and what he saw physically) and emotionally (soul and spirit).
Uncompromisingly beautiful dear Fay and deeply moving... almost every word was felt and oh’ so very truly .... x
Grateful thanks Nev for the visit and comment on Stolen - - - knew you would feel the emotion behind the words and lines..............x
A super write - heart-felt.
Such an emotive write Fay, those 'stolen moments' are so precious to all of us.
Andy
Taking time out of life... stolen moments... bitter-sweet and poignant. I am jealous of those who can get lost like that!
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