Laura has been playing with words over at Seedling in Stone, and she invited us on a bit of caper. There were a couple of options, all involving poetry.  It's been fun to see where the poems and words have wended their way. And, as usual, I am coming in under the wire.

She said that she cannot write poetry long hand and often taps it out on keyboard; I, on the other hand, can only write poetry long hand. Something about the feeling of pen on paper inspires. And it usually happens at the oddest times. This one sprang, full born, into my head at 11:30 last night as I was slipping into slumber. Which necessitated rising again, finding pen and paper, and scribbling madly. I awoke this morning to wonder if it was any good. It seems dreamy, like the dream land it came from.

I chose option three- to finish the line "If memories were sparrows…" You can read other poems that started this way here.

If memories were sparrows
sing, then
of dusty dim
faces fading

of fresh new life
fingers toes
and warbling cry

of dancing dreams
and laughing light
chasing across the floor

If memories were sparrows
fly, then
ahead
behind
on starry song
of joy
of love
of hope
of loss

of life.

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The great poem caper…

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Tell me what's on your heart~