StonesA Poem by Donald Meikle
The clock drips time upon my soul
As trees paint Winter's touch I watch as alders pay their toll And ashes creak with aching pain It doesn't really matter much No one comes back again This one way street of dragging feet Is often lit with warming sun And just as often rain We twist and dance And with romance Hand in hand we dare to chance Love found we take the train Life bound we will remain Constant as the clocking stones © 2009 Donald MeikleReviews
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1 Review Added on May 9, 2009 AuthorDonald MeikleHalifax, MAAboutLiverpool born,USNavy vet. Enjoying first marriage. three daughters, (two bathrooms) one until they left. (a tree that loves me) Poet thru geneology) Scot Irish. Living in New England more..Writing
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