Stained
Glass 'Twixt
distant dreams Foreboding
barriers left standing Where
ghosts and demons Building
walls of silence A heart... who's
voice grew weak and raspy ...sensed
but not seen Hope
growing ever dim, ...Behind the walls, Treading
painfully as my soul And
there I remained, Quill
against sword... Yet a window remained. Glass
stained by sweating palms,
and soot from flames Unable
to escape Until only a flicker remained. A
small light casting great shadows A
reflected beacon of hope's eternal dream As
a bottled note, who
perchance might peer For Sharon I Love You ©
Alan W. Goodson |