This Corner of The World (Hopelessly Hoping, Crossby Stills & Nash)
They run wishing they could fly
Green hills touch the peaks of sky
Where grey clouds harbour water fall
Shaking the foundations of the empty place in your soul
That suddenly fills whole by chilled dew drop mornings made new
Every day when the grass swelters in its lush green glow
Old muddy cars beat down a curving highway left echoing quiet
From passing on a railroad that time has forgot
Orange mud swells with brown earth, covered toes in dirt
Covered soul, fingers in the hurt
That fades and aches anew in between the foliage
As the vastness of the hills comes calling
Always calling
Calling names in the dark, in the night
Echoing in the canyon for a spark
That lights wet trees, rain beats down
Iron gates and wire fences sing profound
The noise of drops on a tin roof
The smell of smoking wood buried deep in your clothes
A dog barks, mirrored by its own bite
An old man who's life has been lived waves goodbye
The streets ring silent with the old time truth
That the world moves on no matter how many holes you shoot
Into a tin fence littered with rust
As the vastness of the hills comes calling,
Always calling.
In this corner of the world
Not many know,
But many call home.
Always calling from the hills.
~J.K.M.
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2. A Definitive (Poetry)
PoetryNot just poetry for humanity. Poetry for me too. An array of poetry displayed in raw light. "For what it's worth, even words can explain the complications in ones head if you find the time to discover the right sentences." ~J.K.M.
