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[paoladegliesposti 521]

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-weary-one/

[paoladegliesposti 521]

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/spring-came-3/

[paoladegliesposti 521]

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/exchanging-hats/

[paoladegliesposti 521]

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/be-not-sad/

[paoladegliesposti 521]

a telling , in an unknown place,  not a prosperous environment, in that time, two friends, on holiday time:

 

we sit on a bench and waiting for the train to come. People come and go on rail platform and really it is familiar. Although i don't feel alone beside my dear mate, companion of the most absurd nights and sometimes days, i have a sense of excitement of what is is going to be. Such a feeling it is not welcome to me. The train is small and it will lead us to the final destination. That town. My dear mate is well informed about it as she described it as a place where we are going to see lot of beautiful things. My uncertainty about the future doesn't want to consider any of her positive propaganda. I am there because it is holiday time and i hope to find healthy situations and eventually to enrich my knowledge about habits and behaviours.

Now we are on the train and as usual i look outside the window, countryside is amazing,such as vegetations. Good climate i think.

Surprise arrives when we get out of the station, such a wind i never been in before and i would say a bit of annoying with its persistence,but i had the perception to be in a special location as my heart felt differently. My mate says : We have to take the bus to reach the hotel.  ' All right , i answer.'  She is the boss.

Many of these places,pretty decorated and warm we have stayed in the last days and if i knew ,i couldn't have moved from my home, in truth. But, something has been changed in me as i have had the opportunity to verify that young people are not so different everywhere. Now looking at myself at the mirror, i would like coming back in time to live back what i lived and what it is now it 's myself alone that looks like another person.

Stupefying as it is a matter of time, when i get out of the bathroom, my mate is at the table and  the unpredictable is waiting for me and from my shortsighted view, it is not only a new situation,it is absolutely out of it. In this case i have seen the authority, the bringer of a truth, and with stone in his eyes.

And suddenly i have no past, instead a push inside that i have to tell and tell.

 

Edited January 30, 2014 by paoladegliesposti

[tracmic 0]

Hope it's ok to join in.....

 

 

Fading ice of a winter's dawn, a sky reclaims. No longer meadows of barren glass, now flowing tides of hope. A heart opens. Rushing to drink from the warmth removing a cold ache. The greens of spring will wait a little longer, bulb now rooted. Patience.

[tracmic 0]

The brume fell across my thoughts as I traveled a beam of visibility. Nothing but shadows of past and future enclose the present. Wondering if the path will guide to a stop or a comfort hope.

[paoladegliesposti 521]

Hope it's ok to join in.....

 

 

Fading ice of a winter's dawn, a sky reclaims. No longer meadows of barren glass, now flowing tides of hope. A heart opens. Rushing to drink from the warmth removing a cold ache. The greens of spring will wait a little longer, bulb now rooted. Patience.

 

 

The brume fell across my thoughts as I traveled a beam of visibility. Nothing but shadows of past and future enclose the present. Wondering if the path will guide to a stop or a comfort hope.

[Alma1 134]

Hope it's ok to join in.....

 

 

Fading ice of a winter's dawn, a sky reclaims. No longer meadows of barren glass, now flowing tides of hope. A heart opens. Rushing to drink from the warmth removing a cold ache. The greens of spring will wait a little longer, bulb now rooted. Patience.

 

It's more than ok to join in, tracmic. It's very welcome.

 

I'm wondering if you wrote what you posted here? Also, I think some of your 2nd post would lend itself to being song lyrics.

[Alma1 134]

"a telling , in an unknown place,  not a prosperous environment, in that time, two friends, on holiday time:

 

we sit on a bench and waiting for the train to come...And suddenly i have no past, instead a push inside that i have to tell and tell."

 

Paola, when I read what you posted there, I thought "Ahhh - a vignette. "  It's like a little sketch in writing.