The first mistake
A band of soldiers finds diplomacy in the dreg forest comes with consequences.
Andrew Nelson Stewart Andrew Nelson Stewart
In poetry and to find answers of who we are while walking the ephemeral road upon cracks of pain signs leading you.
Hearing Jimi

Hearing Jimi

A Poem by Michael G.

Hearing Jimi

 

 


There was a time

we would go walking down lanes

and laughed our way through crowded parks.

All the while our minds went ahead -

and sometimes, those thoughts got out of the way

letting the free spirits and emotions pass.

Young rockers searching for favorite notes.

 

 

Some,

dancing and stepping among our footprints tried

keeping time with the sounds and feel.

Later,

they would move beyond and were gone

though some simply sat down

while others turned back.

Many couldn’t, wouldn’t, or didn’t understand

the trip being offered and expressed.

 

 

We kept our heartbeats in tune.

When the time was right

a wink of the eye and we would move quickly along

stepping up to the world stage,

smile and say, “I’m here!”

With many wanting, dreaming, wishing, shouting and singing,

we would slip just beyond sight again.

Out of view, then moving astride moonbeams

up, down, and under overpasses.

black lights spinning flashing sometimes brought enlightenment . . .

and more than a few headaches.

 

 

A brightly dressed band of gypsies gaily came

and borrowed a coin or two for another day.

They strode with us a way

then turned down their own road

singing loudly, dancing superbly until out of sight,

the music remembered for awhile,

eventually fading out of mind, also.

 

 

What adventures sunrises were back then -

those amazing kaleidoscopes of nature’s visions

along with sundowns and midnight's

having their own spiritual qualities, too.

Looks looking beyond window sills

patiently, impatiently searching for the next warmth.

 

 

We snapped fingers and clapped hands to the rhythm.

A foot or two tapping steadily to the music within.

Eyes often closed as we swayed lightly and easily.

Smiles shared by the experience.

Young rockers, now growing old

without their realizing the time passing.

 

 

Sometimes,

only sometimes now . . .

I can still hear Jimi.




 

~~~~~~~~~~~~


© 2017 Michael G.



Author's Note

Michael G.
Thank you for reading my work.


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Reviews

"Young rockers, now growing old

without their realizing the time passing."...

I guess I am in that group...how did WE get here so fast..... and I also hear Jimi ......

Cool...........Jazzy

This review was written for a previous version of this writing

Posted 5 Months Ago



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Added on May 24, 2017
Last Updated on May 26, 2017

Author

Michael G.
Michael G.

Holden Beach, NC



About
Though most of what’s left of my hair has turned to silver and gray . . . my mind and heart remain young and full of life. It’s like hearing an oldie Goldie song with the newest electr.. more..

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