Chasing the Wind (original poem included)
Wildflowers swayed on long stems,
In the misty morning rain,
She waded through pasture puddles,
Where she’d never wade again.
Along the fence line she wandered,
Then between the rows of wheat,
Her umbrella pulled at her hands,
Lifting her from her feet.
She’d miss the train if she chased it,
Yet she couldn’t seem to let go,
Twas much like her love for him,
A pain he would never know.
Dropping her bag in long grass,
It’s to the wind she lost her grip,
It pulled her green umbrella from her,
She stood with quivering lips.
“I will not be undone by a gust of air”
She cried out to the grey sky,
Giving chase to her umbrellas handle,
The train in the distance rushed by.
Her mouth was aghast when she saw him,
Waiting at the end of the trail,
He plucked it from the wind for her,
She stood there wet and pale.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
He asked her not a little afraid,
“Are you intending to leave me?”
She was quietly dismayed.
“What if I am? What if I was?”
Tears streaming down her face,
“Would you even notice?” with defiance,
“If I left this lonely place?”.
“There are days you don’t even see me”
The hurt in her eyes tugged his heart,
“Days I’m so invisible to you” she cried
“Would it matter if we were apart?”
Stepping forward he reached for her,
Pulling her against his pounding chest,
He kissed her hair and held her tight,
Her face he did reverently caress.
“I cannot continue to chase the wind”
He nodded and said not a word,
She talked until she was sure,
He understood all he’d heard.
The morning rain stopped suddenly,
“Come home with me,” he said,
“There is a fire burning there”,
“My heart, my soul, our bed”.
This was the second of five photos paired with original poems created exclusively for this special exhibit.
Please visit The Edge Gallery to see all the incredible works there. Many, many talented individuals. Most works are for sale. Also, tip the gallery if you feel so inclined.
www.flickr.com/photos/96818186@N02/47693200372/in/datepos...
Chasing the Wind (original poem included)
Wildflowers swayed on long stems,
In the misty morning rain,
She waded through pasture puddles,
Where she’d never wade again.
Along the fence line she wandered,
Then between the rows of wheat,
Her umbrella pulled at her hands,
Lifting her from her feet.
She’d miss the train if she chased it,
Yet she couldn’t seem to let go,
Twas much like her love for him,
A pain he would never know.
Dropping her bag in long grass,
It’s to the wind she lost her grip,
It pulled her green umbrella from her,
She stood with quivering lips.
“I will not be undone by a gust of air”
She cried out to the grey sky,
Giving chase to her umbrellas handle,
The train in the distance rushed by.
Her mouth was aghast when she saw him,
Waiting at the end of the trail,
He plucked it from the wind for her,
She stood there wet and pale.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
He asked her not a little afraid,
“Are you intending to leave me?”
She was quietly dismayed.
“What if I am? What if I was?”
Tears streaming down her face,
“Would you even notice?” with defiance,
“If I left this lonely place?”.
“There are days you don’t even see me”
The hurt in her eyes tugged his heart,
“Days I’m so invisible to you” she cried
“Would it matter if we were apart?”
Stepping forward he reached for her,
Pulling her against his pounding chest,
He kissed her hair and held her tight,
Her face he did reverently caress.
“I cannot continue to chase the wind”
He nodded and said not a word,
She talked until she was sure,
He understood all he’d heard.
The morning rain stopped suddenly,
“Come home with me,” he said,
“There is a fire burning there”,
“My heart, my soul, our bed”.
This was the second of five photos paired with original poems created exclusively for this special exhibit.
Please visit The Edge Gallery to see all the incredible works there. Many, many talented individuals. Most works are for sale. Also, tip the gallery if you feel so inclined.
www.flickr.com/photos/96818186@N02/47693200372/in/datepos...