Could it be Magic?

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  • LovingJesus
  • Well, here goes nothing. Really. I'm not doing anything.

Could it be Magic?

I still remember long ago, when tides were quick but waves were slow.
I lived along the ocean shore where wind did bluster through my door.
Upon a ledge above the sand I gazed down at the soggy land.
My house was built of maple wood, (I daresay 'twas just as it should)
With a chimney made of brick and windows which the rain did click.
Around my house there was a fence that did the waves a recompence
By dropping shards of ancient bark into the waters, wild and dark.
On many days did I there sit, my being seemed right there to fit.
There on my fence I gazed upon the setting sun or rising dawn,
And there I wondered every day, if it could be magic.

But long ago; then I was young and to the birds, my songs I sung.
And so I aged, and gained my years, and as I aged I gained my fears.
My fears of loss; of lies; of death; of jealousy; of loss of breath.
I moved away from ocean coasts, to the city where it boasts
Of living life in style of ease; only for yourself to please.
I forgot my childish truths, and lost the virtues of my youth,
But somehow managed to arrange my life into a web quite strange.
I went about my daily deeds, acting out my untrue needs.
I wandered through the smoggy place, but never once saw my own face.
And as I marched under my spell, maybe it was magic.

But soon I broke out from my curse, and found that I was all the worse.
The things I would have died to save, by my will now were in their graves.
Now I was lost amid the smog of advertisements, smoke, and fog.
I tried my best to cope with pain, by making toys or paper cranes.
Though one day while I walked awhile I came across a glitt'ry smile;
'Twas a gal I'd met before when I lived on the ocean shore.
We talked of times from long ago, when tides were quick but waves were slow.
We reminisced upon the past, until the day drew to its last.
So we sat down in a park and carried on there in the dark.
And when the sun rose the next morn, it probably was magic.

So more and more there we two met, and those days now I don't regret.
We fell in love there, her and I, as we gazed into the sky
That shone with purples, reds and blues.  They made her eyes alight like dew
That sparkled in the morning sun, and disappeared when day'd begun.
Yes, fell in love there, I and her, and of this last fact we were sure.
For years we met and talked for hours, til we got the wedding flow'rs.
Then we sealed the bond we made with a kiss of sparkling jade.
We moved back to the ocean shore where we would live forever more
As long as life and time would tell, for waves had put us in a spell,
And when I looked into her eyes, was sure that it was magic.

But now those days have come and gone; the grass is whithered in the lawn.
The girl I met so long before, no longer comes in at my door.
Instead she lays in restful sleep, but still to me she jumps and leaps
Like as of old, when we were young and to the birds our songs we sung.
Oh my heart yearns for her return, but from all of this I have learned
That home is where the heart is, yes, that saying now I do know best,
For when she died my home did move to where she lay for me to sooth
With prayers of hope, of joy, of peace, of a place where death may cease.
I miss that girl that I once knew, who'd march the beach with but one shoe,
And looking back at what we had, I know that it was magic.

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When power leads man towards arrogance, poetry reminds him of his limitations. When power narrows the area of man's concern, poetry reminds him of the richness and diversity of existence. When power corrupts, poetry cleanses.

John F. Kennedy (1917-1963) Thirty-fifth President of the USA

LovingJesus’s Poems (22)

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