You Arent yet born - A Summers day awaits.

You aren't yet born
though the summers day awaits, when your searching eyes long
To see a world of thought, in the grass hills you'll come to lay
Looking up at the clouds
With a wonderous view

Knowing out there, there is a poem willing to touch your soul
entering the light, I once waiting there for a muse
And found surrender
To the dying of the light

For night fell heavy
On my heart
And the stars captivated my core with tiny censorship, like bolts
To my missing screw

And I knew you would Come to listen, to waver in lifes betting feild
A hand that holds a pree torn page

Have I any torment left
To drops of ink, and the corner turned

I believe you knew the tone of my heart, and met me long ago
In that hillside, by a river valley, full of flowers wild

And I graced you child
With magic eyes
While the tree stood tall
In surrounding

Only to dedicate the chapter to a love, who vanished with the medium rain

There in the corners folded by the edge, you lay your fingers down
Only to skip to the centre where secret places bound the pages old

In the middle of that summers day, a lingering breeze, a chill
Quite cold

You're not yet born into stormy madness, but still the skies still dawn

May you find me, in the stillness of that summers day, where the trees make whisper
And the wild flowers sway

On the banks of that river
The hillside green
In oldness such a poem
And you, yes you
The theme.