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March 1, 1989

No Need To Stop Before You Start

Filed under: Growing Up — Vasilios Theodorakis @ 6:00 pm

I speak of the world on a frosty clear morn,
When all else becomes, but a magical dream;
Awaiting a wand raised up in the air,
And tapped by a zest and quaintness of speech.

I speak of the moon on the steps to the stars,
Where teddy bears rest in their travels of sleep;
And gasp at the horrors of peopled new hats,
Which darken the rooms of classical souls.

I speak of the sun that spins through our hearts,
And tares at the scars lodged deep by the air;
Which presses and leaves in bursts of fine wind,
Then runs and hides when all else is done.

I speak of the warmth that’s lost to the cold,
And the cold that leads to competent pain;
Yet the march to its death is not of ‘our’ heart,
And should always but end like the knife in the grave!

Audio Version (To Be Added)
Copyright © Vasilios Theodorakis 1989
(Exact date of writing unknown.)

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