31 Aug 1985, Posted by Scott An Chora in Travelogue, 0 Comments

08/31 Toledo, Spain

We both had traveled through Madrid on our way into Portugal but neither one of us had our mind on sightseeing.  We had planned on traveling through into Avila and then on to Toledo so we only got off the train to stretch our legs and find ourselves some food.  When we first arrived in Toledo we walked around its outer wall.  Ann was sporting a t-shirt minus a bra and again my mind began orbiting.  (more…)

31 Aug 1985, Posted by Scott An Chora in Poetry, 0 Comments

Poem 052 The morning passed

The morning passed, like strangers on the road, out that same window, I watched the rain roll down, a distorted view
It reminded me, of yesterday’s tears, how the years, have passed away

As if in a single day, I got caught up in the stream, I’ve seemed, to capture the words,
but I can’t remember, the faces, Just traces, of yesterday’s dream

Looking back, I see the reflection of the face, frozen, like those many framed windows of the past
Only a stranger looking back, through the cracks, of myself

A fool, obedient to a vision, from behind the window, watching, a changing world that’s not my own
Only the birds, I hear sing, about such things, how they’ll never be alone

31 Aug 1985, Posted by Scott An Chora in Poetry, 0 Comments

Poem 053 I have grown

I have grown, like a bird who’s flown, from his own garden, accepted and who listens to my song
in the gardens of others, to me, so much beauty, singing in life, hearing its song

I’ve been walking and wandering, as a wind through the world, time, it has gone away and I’m the one,
who’s following smiles, this world I’m loving today

I wish I could tell, all that I’ve seen, the beauty in the people I’ve meet but every piece, would seem like a dream
if I spent the time, to explain every step, It’s love, really couldn’t say any more

God has been there, showed me the way, his hand has opened each door,
and I’ve been collecting these things, that he’s shown, allowing each step to bring change
now like a feather, no longer the stone, I’m free, as a bird on the range