Compromise
I stand by a brook within the country so wide...
Staring at the waters trickling along the banks of pride,
The thoughts also flows along the sands,
The timeline strains and ruffles within the current’s bounds.
Looking up where the water flows to me now...
A leaf floats by, you were once part of my life,
Now only a memory of many falls, pass me by,
This one reminds me of you, (is of you)...
The sand falls in the hour glass.
Each of a story of getting along, compromising in song.
Each with differences until the next leaf floats along.
And the cries sink below the water’s edge...
For a friend, a partner, an opportunity to touch.
The snowdrops, that settle on the ground, where beauty is tranquil.
Does anyone wonder if anyone thinks of them now?
Were they wrong in everything they did to grow?
Or were looks only on the surface and skin deep?
To be told constantly that material things should be shred
To decay, for those hours of pleasure we had then....
There is no credit for those broken jig-saw pieces,
When you had them in the palm of their hands, shaking them.
Allowing for your partner to weaken and tear,
You saved money and you spent what was already there,
Did one see the hardships of the bearer with no Crown?
The hour’s worked, for the struggling times allowed?
I drop in a stone in the clear waters, they flow over and around,
The trickles sound and life reflects, shining into no-man’s land...
Like a stake anchored down, one cannot move in any way,
One pushes against the current, struggling to do the right thing or say.
Many leaves float by, each a memory, if only one was for me.
One that was secure in time, the water trickles, as the constant in my mind.
Instead, the anchor uproots and one floats face down,
Staring at the stones on the bed, no touch, no feel, no emotion, aground.
It is getting late and there is little time.
We only have one short journey until the end of the line...
What have we done in this story to date?
A fight for different dreams, flowing against a current, a tide
Only of dreams?
No compromises, struggles to survive and you detached from our lives,
No Conscience of what is, cant you see within your own eyes ?
Our time has been wasted on trivialities, envies and lies,
Friendships lost, to move along alone, perhaps only now we are wise...
Do we still have the time for compromise?
Author Nigel G Wilcox 13/11/15
Staring at the waters trickling along the banks of pride,
The thoughts also flows along the sands,
The timeline strains and ruffles within the current’s bounds.
Looking up where the water flows to me now...
A leaf floats by, you were once part of my life,
Now only a memory of many falls, pass me by,
This one reminds me of you, (is of you)...
The sand falls in the hour glass.
Each of a story of getting along, compromising in song.
Each with differences until the next leaf floats along.
And the cries sink below the water’s edge...
For a friend, a partner, an opportunity to touch.
The snowdrops, that settle on the ground, where beauty is tranquil.
Does anyone wonder if anyone thinks of them now?
Were they wrong in everything they did to grow?
Or were looks only on the surface and skin deep?
To be told constantly that material things should be shred
To decay, for those hours of pleasure we had then....
There is no credit for those broken jig-saw pieces,
When you had them in the palm of their hands, shaking them.
Allowing for your partner to weaken and tear,
You saved money and you spent what was already there,
Did one see the hardships of the bearer with no Crown?
The hour’s worked, for the struggling times allowed?
I drop in a stone in the clear waters, they flow over and around,
The trickles sound and life reflects, shining into no-man’s land...
Like a stake anchored down, one cannot move in any way,
One pushes against the current, struggling to do the right thing or say.
Many leaves float by, each a memory, if only one was for me.
One that was secure in time, the water trickles, as the constant in my mind.
Instead, the anchor uproots and one floats face down,
Staring at the stones on the bed, no touch, no feel, no emotion, aground.
It is getting late and there is little time.
We only have one short journey until the end of the line...
What have we done in this story to date?
A fight for different dreams, flowing against a current, a tide
Only of dreams?
No compromises, struggles to survive and you detached from our lives,
No Conscience of what is, cant you see within your own eyes ?
Our time has been wasted on trivialities, envies and lies,
Friendships lost, to move along alone, perhaps only now we are wise...
Do we still have the time for compromise?
Author Nigel G Wilcox 13/11/15
Chapter Six
No.86
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