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This place I've known for way too long has taken me and pulled me along I'm stuck just like a nail to wood and can find the time that had once stood for when I become so old and grey I want to...
She was a cyclist, pedalling down past the old fashioned shops on a metallic blue bicycle. Her hair flew behind her like a wild yet beautiful horse's mane, with faintly familiar brunette strands.
Why is it that we have this feeling towards our past. Is it because we truly loved it, or is it because we're afraid of what's ahead, or does our past just give us comfort.
Words are the forgotten weapons, they can conjure up pain, inflict heartache, and even drive us to death.
I often dreamt of my perfect world when I was little, how I wished it were real.
Lying here Close to the end Wishing for The things not done. Wish I'd never walked that path Or I'd said those words Wish I'd married my first love But wishes cannot change.
Tonight I love the street lamps, That light my way back home. The streets are quiet no one about, not even a soul. I squint my eyes, look at the lights, reminisce being a child.
There's something really quite beautiful about the sky tonight. It's dark, but not black: a deep, deep blue. Stars are dotted about it.
Sometimes I like to watch the clock. When everything's quiet, you can hear it ticking.
When you were a child, sorrow passed as clouds on rainy days, the world was small, your parents were invincible heroes, they could cure all problems in the world, pain was temporary, heartache was...
The snow soon settled. The last few flakes fluttered to the ground, Glistening in the now setting sun. For the days of December leave so soon.
Here's a thought. Since the dawn of time, Our Sun, the one we walk under everyday has been there for this planet.
Carousels twirl all around excited youth. I do not mind at all. Where tonight in a world full of thrills - it can carry me up, far above it all. It's a long way down from here to the sound.
Realizing the things, that mean so much. Like a thought that puts a smile, on your face, or a simple loving touch. The smell of fragrant flowers, on a breezy Spring day.
Those golden summer days that passed. Did really seem a dream. When viewed through winters deepest eyes. But the past is nought but evergreen. If seen 'neath troubled skies. So if you feel a pining,.
I love this time of year - spring. I love to see the fresh green growth budding on all the trees and the colourful blossom appearing here and there.
I don't think I have laid my eyes on anything more beautiful than an Irish summer sky at dawn. So transient, ethereal. It reaches out to me and gives me warmth.
I wish the world worked like a radio. Cos when there were wars you could press stop so all wars could end. If you regret something from the past you could click rewind and say what you really meant.
I wish you could have been there for the sun & the rain & the long, hard hills. For the sound of a thousand conversations scattered along the road.
When we're little we would race across the yard When we were little we could have no cares in our mind When we were little stress wasn't a problem When we were little we could go up to someone and we...
If you were rocking and I were rocking and we were eighty-three and I turned around to look at you, what would you say to me.
As the sun sets in the in the western skies, we celebrate the end of 2011 and start to welcome 2012. My horse shuffles softly on the dry prairie scrub, leaning down to taste a bit of sage.
Maybe our mistakes are what make our fate. Without them, what would shape our lives. Perhaps if we never veered off course, we wouldn’t fall in love, or have babies, or be who we are.