Exploring
Bygone days.
We took a circuitous route,
And explored our bygone days,
Like a melody played on a flute,
In the spring’s Blue Mountain haze.
It almost seemed surrealistic,
Evocations that spring from the past,
A feeling deep down it was mystic,
And of mortal souls that don’t last.
Like browsing into past times,
Periods of life that have gone,
Mingled with nostalgic rhymes,
Part of an ethereal song.
The places where love had lingered,
Whilst time wove a web of intrigue,
Places where thoughts had malingered,
And new life had grown from a seed.
The cycle of life is eclectic,
Stemming from sources within,
From the unexpected to hectic,
On the strings of a violin.
There are mountains that I remember,
The peaks and the deep abyss,
From January to late December,
Your lips and that fleeting kiss.
Here today and gone tomorrow,
I follow the circuitous route,
The happiness and the sorrow,
Right down to the absolute.
Places I’ve seen in my lifetime,
Evocations that spring from the well,
The storms are then followed by sunshine,
Living our lives in parallel.
©
David Rudder
2017
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