Methinks it’s time for me to break out in a symphony
Of words. I’ve been silent for o’ so long, it pains me.
My writings suffer too. I scratch my head and think
To no avail. Words appear, what I see, is wasted ink.
My thoughts come from my heart and from my soul.
The fingers do not cooperate to create that symphony.
I pray the power from the past, will return and bring
Music to my soul and cause my heart to sing.
LO! Thoughts from a love, long past, rejuvenate my
Fingers so that they are dancing in merriment upon
The keyboard of my mind and bring on a symphony
Of loving words that I dreaded were forever gone.
What appeared to me as wasted ink, cannot last.
All that matters now seems to be cooperating.
Nothing can override my special love of the past,
It is ever on my mind, in my heart and in my soul.
A symphony of everlasting love, played, no end.
To me all I’d want or need before a heaven;
A symphony, music made of love that could
Bring all the world to sing.
Copyright © 2013 Charles E. Frost
May 10, 2013