IN THE LONG AGO..

In the long ago, when first we had met; when words of silence, fell between, in twilight. As misty, morning thoughts.. inspire. As the smell of roses, seeped through windows unlocked, always; the man is somewhere. Even in thought, his words are cool, and soothing. Anonymous he’ll be around me.. yet he clings to me, as a flower to the vine.. my faithful one, my rock.

Art, Poem by: DDSonnenburg(dd)

ON MY WINDOW PANE

A cold morning frost

greeted the sun;

visible behind clouds of mist;

as reflections gleam and splash;

upon the trees and grass.

Then a twinkle caught my eye;

for on my window pane;

was a stream of stain;

and I wonder here and now;

did it come from clouds above;

or was the stain a tear,

to tell me,

God was here?

Donna Sonnnenburg, 8-17-2000

Thanks, for being my Huckleberry friend. dd