Thoughts flow like
vines grasping the
base of an abandoned
pedestal the ornateness
of which is covered
with only mossy lichens
on a bowl with contents
emptied and dust filled
no longer a bath for
tiny sparrows that have
taken flight their
chirping bird song now
a distant memory in
the wind that stirs the
breeze to send leaves
fluttering in the old
deserted graveyard
where long lost writers
have taken their repose
© November 2011 Renee Espriu
reneejustturtleflight.com 
I love this poem Renee, you have captured the essence of how time passes as the months flow on from those seasons and as we ourselves grow older and we become forgotten. … You have such a wonderful way with your words that leave me in Awe of your mind… For often like you I sit as I watch nature as she moves onward and I ponder at the wonder of it all and I am forever amazed at how quicker that time we hold so precious slips even faster through our thoughts as we remember the yester-years of our thoughts..
beautiful Renee… 🙂
LikeLike
Thank you Sue and I’m glad you like the post. I have no idea how I come with the ideas except they are just there and need to be written down. I am happy for this after years of not being able to write at all. It is just recently that the throughts run freely.
LikeLike
But, the good writers words never die, do they? The ones whom we love to read at whatever age we are.
Lovely, lovely piece from you.
LikeLike
No, of course, not. There will always be those writers who live on in time forever. To be such as those would be truly remarkable. Thank You!
LikeLike
another magical poem renee. my net connection was down since 1st. got it back today. 🙂
the poem tugs at some childhood memories of roaming around the old, deserted buildings- once so full of life now as you said, “moss, lechen” hanging from places that once held better things.
LikeLike
Glad to see you back, Trisha! I imagine it was quite difficult for you not being able to write. I love old places, even cemetaries, for they hold the lives of all those gone before. What a wonder. Thank You!
LikeLike
Well written! It is a wise person who knows life is fragile and limited. A cemetery holds the memory of what a person was; but the soul does not reside there.
LikeLike
Thank you for your comment and for visiting.
LikeLike
This is great, Renee!! I love old cementaries – and this is a great photo to accompany your poem!! 🙂
LikeLike
I am so glad I have those who are like minded regarding the resting places of those who have gone before us. Thank You!
LikeLike
Renee, one of my favourite places to visit is an old cemetery. Lovely writing as always. I am so sorry to be getting round to read so late. I am trying to write a poem a day, plus attempting to keep up with my normal life, which is very busy right now. I appreciate you reading and commenting on my poems, thank you.
Pamela
LikeLike
I quite understand, Pamela, and it is no problem at all. I don’t actually get to your site as often as I would like as due to chonic fatigue issues and work and family and projects…well you name it and I’m right there with you. I appreciate it when you do come and your comments. Thank You!
LikeLike