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UNREQUITED

When I woke up I smiled at you
you didn't see
when I sat up I saw you there
you didn't sense me
when I thought of you
you didn't know

when all the leaves have left the tree
and all the rivers fill
when birds awake in spring
and flowers ring

and flights of memory take off
to join the throng of joyful dance
on verge of madness

happiness is there to pluck
and yet
you perceive it not

Style / type: 
Free verse
Editing stage: 

Comments

then let's not play with it anymore
for the pen has been dipped in the golden stream
and any edit would smudge it

this is beautiful
love judyanne
xxxx

'Each for the joy of the working, and each, in his separate star,
shall draw the Thing as he sees It, for the God of Things as They are.'
(Rudyard Kipling)

It was felt and seen and written in the moment of sitting up in bed, in my iPhone notes.
Finished.

annanya smiles.

"The image of yourself which you see in a mirror Is dead,
but the reflection of the moon on water, lives." Kenzan.

author comment

when all the leaves have left the tree
and all the rivers fill
when birds awake in spring
and flowers ring

and flights of memory take off
to join the throng of joyful dance
on verge of madness

lovely lines. Thanku

John

I really had to look hard to come up with even 1 alternative :maybe...happiness is here to pluck
but this depends entirely on whether the unrequited love has faded. Wonderful poem.........stan

a day of spring renewal and thoughts
before

the old and young renew their love
amongst the growing green
and warm lit sun upon their love

and I drift in the ruin of the yards
shards of happiness gleaming

the brooding junkyard dog

Whom reads his prose when
darkness unfolds
the starry make above the grail
for the soul to drink of

this gem this song I'm reading
here fills the very nature of
this spring

reminds me of everything
broken sometimes has its
edge

the departed love
life
day
on swift wings or slow current

ghosts that wake
tales that sleep
alive in our deep

I greatly am enjoying this
work over in my head
not because of its
sorrow or unhappiness
but because its real

because sometimes
one awakes
much too often
although the sunny norm
of day sweeps me from
the ashs of those places

sometimes there is a very
real reality that survives
from the dream

sometimes mirrors do not
throw back a reflection
instead a door

thank you my Ann
so apt this work for me
right now

so personal

This is lovely and plays out well...
favorite thoughts/lines:

and flights of memory take off
to join the throng of joyful dance
on verge of madness

happiness is there to pluck
and yet
you perceive it not

Don't change a word...

always, Cat

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