It's strange how friendship finds us,
Hidden as ourselves.
Carefully chosen threads
Make casually knitted sweaters.
Yours is green, almost black
But hidden in the hue
Is a brilliance I can see
Unique only to you.
Mine is red
The darkest kind
So velvety deep
You'll never find It's likeness
On this world or next.
A frosty ocean coral
Spews liberal froth
On waves of dew
That sparkle in the
Dead of night
Like tiny stars
Under the current spell.
What is beauty to the blind?
When they seek what do they find?
Perhaps, it is an inward quest
To seek the good and find the best.
Tis strange how I can be inspired
And see with human eyes
The things that last forever,
What do you see?
A billion little birds
Peck throughout the day
And the masses asked
What did that birdie say?
Entertain us all
Your gift with words
Can make us move our feet
It makes me laugh and dream of things better left with sleep.
Off the top of my Head:
This isn't a poem, it is just a thought that remains and my energy doesn't. And like that it has gone. Until we meet again, dear thought, oh, dearest thought of mine.
