Between The Pages
 

 

With A reverent touch..the writer records....




On a pristine parchment canvas,
painted with the pens of experience
and the inks of wisdom,
lie the portraits of our lives



Chock full of;



Inspiration, contemplation and appreciation,




Unforgettable moments of shared laughter,
high hopes, magnificent loves, broken dreams,
dashed hopes,and unrelenting teardrops



For after all is said and done


Llife is like a book




Some chapters precious souvenirs
full of rose petals, tied with blue velvet string..

.

Those were our finest hours



Others soggy and damp with undried tears
shed in the hours when fate was unkind
and our path grew wild with briars...



Those were the times our lives hit bottom



Each book starts on the day we are born
and ends when the white feathers of death
closes our eyes for that last final time...




What's written in between those covers
is the interaction between ourselves and that
rogue called life and his first cousin age....




All of the pages are precious !



For when bound with the leathers
of experience and laced with love,
laughter, joy and sorrow,they become
the permanent record of who were and
what we stood for...how well we lived...




I have always tried to write my book
based on this old adage that I heard
as a child .




*Each new day lies before you
Like a path of untrodden snow
Be careful how you walk it
For each print will show


Be careful of each step you take
For I may walk the same
Then one day down some lonesome path
Perhaps I'll call your name.*




If I can one day hear someone call my name
then I'll consider my
book of life a big success

By jollynoblefrog

© 2011 jollynoblefrog (All rights reserved)

 

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This Poem is part of a Challenge: Anything Goes - with Larry (whiskurz) read page for rules and info (challenge has been closed)


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