The words sit silent
Waiting to take a place
On a page, part of a sentence
A paragraph
Or just fill an empty space.
Never know what they are to be
Where they’re coming from
Placed upon the page
Uttered
From a pulpit
Graced by the shinning sun.
No matter, there they come
No longer waiting
The words have found their purpose
Their place, on a page, a paragraph
A voice
Greeting the morning sun.
~ Patrice
© Patrice Clarkson – 2015
The words sit silent
Waiting to take a place
On a page, part of a sentence
A paragraph
Or just fill an empty space.
Never know what they are to be
Where they’re coming from
Placed upon the page
Uttered
From a pulpit
Graced by the shinning sun.
No matter, there they come
No longer waiting
The words have found their purpose
Their place, on a page, a paragraph
A voice
Greeting the morning sun.
~ Patrice
© Patrice Clarkson – 2015
Ponder well your journey
In the past and ask
Did I do all that could be done
To stop this tragedy?
Lives lost, such a waste
Nothing gained only
Empty, empty space .
Touch their souls
Let them see
A heart beats here
Knowing their courageousness.
~ Patrice
© Patrice Clarkson – 2011
 | Patrice on Let Me Hear The Wind Blow |
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| Patrice on Feel |
| joannerambling on Feel |
| Patrice on I Have Heard |
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Based on work at patriceclarkson.wordpress.com.
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