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"Beyond what is seen" by David Barger 2009-08-11 09:37:04 |
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A wish is a dream That fell in between The cushions Of an overused sofa.
That is what the sign read In the white room With the floor covered In bubbles. Ceiling fans lifted those Not secure on the floor To dance and bounce Around and around and about. I smiled as a few Fell on my nose And popped Tickling the ends of my eyelashes.
In the middle of the room A black marble table Stood perfectly still With a golf sized earth Sitting on top of a tee, And a driver laying beside it Tied to a note reading Swing Me.
I looked at this world Filled of murder and hate How it was covered In lies and torture and rape. Oh, what temptation Blurred that my sight
For I wanted to hit it Into pieces With all of my might,
But a boy of four Approached me Right there in midthought, And said There’s where I live Pointing to a speck of dust On this miniature globe. My mama and papa Though they try we are poor, And my baby sister is ill. Although I have been sick Since the time I turned three Tomorrow’s the last day That I’ll ever see.
I picked up that ball Placed it secure in my pocket, And asked if he’d like to walk for awhile. His big brown eyes shined Which caused me to smile, And we walked through the tunnels Of cotton candy and cream pies. We swam in a cup With the whales in their ocean Where the dolphins all leaped, And the otters all played.
We went down the mountains Where the snow was all ice cream, And the tree tops of cream puffs On sugar waffle cones Held high in the sky.
We found us an island Made of great seashells, And he bent down low Intently to hear The sounds filled of joy Causing him to dance
Like those bubbles I’d seen Though the sounds weren’t quite clear, As the melody shared by his smile In the music he heard Fell deaf on my ears.
I looked at the boy Saying son, Calling him son For I knew not his name, If you had one wish what would it be? He took my hand saying That you’d be my friend Until tomorrow arrives, And take that there ball Placing it right by your window, And every morning you wake up There I will be.
Ovi poetry |
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