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A Poet

~*~ Anastasia ~* Once Upon A December ~*~

If you listen closely the wind whispers,
Sharing tales and songs that only she knows.
And the night paints pictures she shares with few,
That drift on the dreams where the stardust flows.

So many ways we can see the same things,
So many turns on each path we can take,
And no one path is either right or wrong.
And our views differ by choices we make.

There is a path through what is here and now,
Through a world that is clearly black and white,
And what we see is easily defined,
Things are factual, either wrong or right.

But there’s a path that wanders through our dreams
Where much is not quite what it seems to be,
And we see more with the heart than the eyes,
Know more when our imagination’s free.

Somewhere in between the world that’s mundane,
And a world where fantasy’s magic reigns,
Are those who still hold that we don’t know all
And rejoice that awe and wonder remains.

For a poet has the soul of a child,
Their heart is ever innocent and pure,
With an elder’s perception and vision.
And magic, by their words, they do insure.

They try to be like everybody else,
Here in the shadows wanting to blend in.
Each foot on a path in different worlds,
Other’s see only half of where they’ve been.

So a Halfling walks in two worlds not one,
Seeing the world in a different way,
Knowing many will wonder at her thoughts,
And question the words she chooses to say.

The Halfling must balance what she will share.
Much of what she sees she to herself keeps,
Knowing that most will never understand.
And for what they cannot see she weeps.

(c) Candace 10/02/2012


By SilverDawn

© 2012 SilverDawn (All rights reserved)


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