poems

The Night Train

bloggedit

Sometimes it’s cloudy but the sun’s still there.

Sometimes You’ll skip a gear but it’s usually worth the journey.

Sometimes you won’t listen but I know you can hear me.

I may not reflect your compassion on occasion but I can feel you, always.

On centre stage your cosmic rays brighten dismal forgone days.

You apply bright metaphors to simple conversations.

Keep me guessing with warm suggestions.

Right upto the point where it’s no longer a question.

Let me reiterate our suggestive conversation with another question.

Would you ride the night train?

Marry me again?

Run screaming through mud puddles whilst holding hands in the pouring rain?

I’m game.

It’s time to turn the tides.

A new leaf to regrow what hurts inside.

Shared wide, broken hearted.

A new oath that reinstates where we started.

Plasma guns, lazar rays and medical equipment.

Memories we don’t need, lets get a new shipment.

Sometimes the sun’s still there when it’s cloudy.

Sometimes you’ll reach your destination safely.

You won’t hear me but I know you’ll listen and that’s good enough for me.

I thank God for what I’ve been given.

Copyright G.P Williamson 2017

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