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by Logan
Rated: E · Poetry · Experience · #2216060
"A life is like a garden. Perfect moments can be had, but not preserved, except in memory"

Dragonflies from years gone by,
in fields drenched in sun
Its funny how the years just fly,
ironic how they run

'midst fireflies and fairies lost,
at feet of gardens past
Dreams dropped harden, rise in cost,
with dragons fleeting fast

Metalic tints and membraned wings,
they glisten in the air
Cast sepia with other things,
'tween locks of flaxen hair

In pools such fledgling notions hang,
suspended 'neath the glass
Looking for the songs we sang,
emboldened by the brass

Framing water lost in time,
cost without a care
Trust and reason lost in rhyme,
coming up for air

Flyers for another day,
a future long past, spent
Beneath a sun, shone endless... play
in fields heaven sent

Hopes and dreams, with wings that shone,
through flightpaths skewed, oblique
Notions dreamt long, built upon,
foundations raised too weak

Dragonflies with wings of glass,
reflective in the sun
Butterflies still flood the pass
... with fireflies that run

Racing through their gardens brief,
with moments, perfect, saved
Preserved in mind, where life is leafed,
in memory, long craved

Chances spent, now been and gone,
the times that slipped, we missed
Dragonflies, their light long shone,
with summers never kissed

Cross fields, forests... dragon's blaze,
flying for the sun
Chances locked beneath the glaze,
glistening, they run

round carparks, fields, forests, green,
such flyers, posted... vie
'neath canopies, bleed hearts unseen,
such dragons, they still fly

through a glass, looked darkly, spun,
through rainbows, monochrome
By night a moon shines starkly, won
... we face the dawn alone

A dawn sung silent, deep in hoods,
so silent, does she stir?
I guess we'll always have the woods,
as noisy as they were

Dragonflies from days gone by,
remembered evermore
We watch them, ever graceful fly,
... in memory... they soar

Inspired from personal experience with a dash of Leanord Nimmoy, RIP
© Copyright 2020 Logan (stipey at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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