Pass The Dutchie ~ iii


  
Voices echo through the vacant spaces of my heart
Leaving swirls of misty thoughts, it starts
It was spring at my feet that sprung
Carried north above my eyes where it hung
Willow trees weeping in wide open spaces
Pines and birch sprouting buds in all the right places
Pinecones dripping sap trapping bugs for a feast
Where birds feed on springs harvest treat
A doleful voice poured into my cup
It was angelic but too distant for me to taste
A swoon of a voice as it calls
To my gaze, my eyes did lay
Upon a creature trapped in the forest where it came
The distant pain now fully in my wake
Found a wounded doe lost in its sorrow
Sobbing cries the pain endured, deep in to the marrow
I see but cannot touch flesh, for in dreams they are forbidden
But to sing in a song of whispers written
Pray that comforting words may enlighten
A soul in need cries out when in despair
Too late for some that could not bear
The wait for anyone to care

Ax

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