Where I Reside

Where my garden lies,

Behind the shrubs and dandelions,

I follow trails that lead me lost,

To keep to heart and not just home.

 

Where I stay is in shallow talks,

Of mystery and lack of faith,

Such to me sounds like apathy,

Just like my cheerless metronome.

 

Where my wits really live,

Are but of chivvied ache.

Do not call me back to pain,

For I am not sure I could sing to that.

 

Where my love waits is not at now,

But of then and bunks with hope.

To a better day of tomorrow,

And maybe they will return.

 

Where my voice may reside,

Is in my eyes when you speak to me.

No grief is passed through you,

Lost, are those feelings now.

 

Where I dwell is in a form of things,

Such as every cave.

But if I can call forth all my self,

You would get a person whole. 

Reviews

[WiLL i e]

I really dig this and especially the last two lines. Nice tie up. I read in this wisdom, timidity, self doubt but with an ever growing confidence and ultimate triumph. Or perhaps I'm way off though. Great piece all the same. Masterful verbage.

[Cascara (aka Sprint Goe..]

nice...

reminds me of neva florre's writing

[patricia]

The last stanza was excellent.
Behind the shrubs and dandelions was my favourite line.
i like the language you use in this, it has some lovely lines..about your voice residing in your eyes ... it has a nice feel to it..this poem. I liked it a lot. Thanks.