05 Jun 1985, Posted by Scott An Chora in Poetry, 0 Comments
I know giving, beyond giving, when you, you come to me
who woke the night, before the dawn and touched me, silently
As two windblown clouds, who ripple the night, drifting, not a care
who touches the reasons, of love and why, understanding how to share
It touches me, so deeply, her fingers, as the sun
who warms the light, to my inner soul and wraps me, into one
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06 Jun 1985, Posted by Scott An Chora in Travelogue, 0 Comments
We headed north into Scotland. Initially we didn’t wander too far from the train stations but eventually we stretched our arms and headed into the countryside. The weather had been wonderful. I truly believe the sun had been following us for weeks. The primroses were in bloom and the fields were scattered with frolicking rabbits. (more…)
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06 Jun 1985, Posted by Scott An Chora in Poetry, 0 Comments
Have you seen so many people, hanging around in bars?
locked in faces, neon light, no shadows from the stars
Have you seen so many people, drifting through the town
drinking up, another cup and trying not to drown
Feet are slow, the damage high and sing a song, of days gone by
news is bad, so glasses high and sing a song, of dreams goodbye
Have you seen so many people, whose leaves have turned to gold?
slowly fading, from spring to fall. still hiding from the cold
Have you seen so many people, when looking from above
who drink and dance, another song, just play at making love
Feet are slow, the damage high and sing a song, of days gone by
news is bad, so glasses high and sing a song, of dreams goodbye
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06 Jun 1985, Posted by Scott An Chora in Poetry, 0 Comments
Like soft rain on the morning rose, the song from a murmuring stream,
the peace from which solitude flows, is life’s eternal theme
And we like these spring rain drops fall, for we shall meet and run,
for in the end we will meet again, all flowing into one
Like the heart of spring lies yearning, where tender kisses rain,
love and life returning, all hearts will bloom again
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07 Jun 1985, Posted by Scott An Chora in Travelogue, 0 Comments
We took a tour bus around the lock, walked along the water’s edge, waited and watched but never did see a sea monster. I took off my shoes along its edge and waded ankle deep, for only seconds. To a California boy this was cold. One old man told me that this sea monster stuff had a lot to do with how much whiskey was drunk, but that didn’t help either. (more…)
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