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Description
Spring-time: Come In Come Out of the Rain On the face of yesterday, a sense of your presence, Seen in a shadow from a brow of a hill once climbed, A big steep dream, golden from a new dawn hypnotised, Embroidered with beautifying warmth, soft and pure, That thread of sentiment, meant more than time itself, She - this time of year – still a glittering theme, Remembers long-lost days like all our tomorrow’s, Shining the light on me, reflecting highlights indeed, Only on a clear day can closed eyes open hearts, That something’s still to be found by someone, In Spring-time. In the mind of this evening, lay a loving legacy, Brooding, it promised so much, now a miracle awaits, Tossing and turning the pages lie wide awake, Of brilliant things a book landscaped the years, Edgy without borders, deep enough to float eternally, The pathos of Her emotive image touches truly, What nerves had lacked return with sensual trust, Ringing across the valley, echoes of what’s passed, Memories listening-in where we switched-off, Now decide to come in, come out of the rain, In Spring-time. This deep sleep wonders, seeking a mirror, To rediscover and ponder, to feel Her nearer, And never disappear, those afternoon silhouettes, Crowning jewels dance barefoot by Oaks, Impressing eternally, longing such welcome, If only they could see me – as I see them, That begs the answer from a differing question; To be entwined, with all that’s passed-up ahead, Is to sense the hopes and prayers, with or without, Need nor expectation; find within a true vocation, In Spring-time. 19th February 2015 ©Daniel Brooks-Laurent

Description
Spring-time: Come In Come Out of the Rain On the face of yesterday, a sense of your presence, Seen in a shadow from a brow of a hill once climbed, A big steep dream, golden from a new dawn hypnotised, Embroidered with beautifying warmth, soft and pure, That thread of sentiment, meant more than time itself, She - this time of year – still a glittering theme, Remembers long-lost days like all our tomorrow’s, Shining the light on me, reflecting highlights indeed, Only on a clear day can closed eyes open hearts, That something’s still to be found by someone, In Spring-time. In the mind of this evening, lay a loving legacy, Brooding, it promised so much, now a miracle awaits, Tossing and turning the pages lie wide awake, Of brilliant things a book landscaped the years, Edgy without borders, deep enough to float eternally, The pathos of Her emotive image touches truly, What nerves had lacked return with sensual trust, Ringing across the valley, echoes of what’s passed, Memories listening-in where we switched-off, Now decide to come in, come out of the rain, In Spring-time. This deep sleep wonders, seeking a mirror, To rediscover and ponder, to feel Her nearer, And never disappear, those afternoon silhouettes, Crowning jewels dance barefoot by Oaks, Impressing eternally, longing such welcome, If only they could see me – as I see them, That begs the answer from a differing question; To be entwined, with all that’s passed-up ahead, Is to sense the hopes and prayers, with or without, Need nor expectation; find within a true vocation, In Spring-time. 19th February 2015 ©Daniel Brooks-Laurent