It lies in the dark
Untouched
Rusted
But hidden
It once made art
Left streams of color in its wake
Painting with gentle strokes
And blazing it’s trail
It once was a friend
I cannot deny my yearning
I dream of its artwork
While its remnants go on burning
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Comments2
Fantastic title there! lol.
realisation's: painful curse, of a waning
imagination;
a mourning for the loss
of what we, once
considered a limitless, part of ourselves...
(a great write! thanks for sharing)
'There was a time when meadow, grove, and stream,
The earth, and every common sight,
To me did seem
Apparelled in celestial light,
The glory and the freshness of a dream.
It is not now as it hath been of yore;--
Turn wheresoe'er I may,
By night or day,
The things which I have seen I now can see no more.'
'Whither is fled the visionary gleam?
Where is it now, the glory and the dream?'
from 'Ode, Intimations of Immortality'
by the great Wordsworth:
( https://mypoeticside.com/show-classic-poem-34653 )
a poem, he wrote decades before his death
but part of a collection, he insured
would only be published, posthumously - tellingly...'
Thank you for this share!! I am always excited to hear other writers reflections
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