Walls Don't Tumble

As the glass tumbles

and a vase shatters upon the table ,

The lightening strikes ,

reflects the shadow upon the table,

So does the ripple upon the table,

shows reflections of our life,

That are set upon  our ways 

as the rose stands alone in reflection,

Hanger

Walls Don't Tumble

Caught in the light  late,

Send no tears to my followers,

So the wall tumbles,

The smiles come in tears,

The rose stays in the vase you sent,

when time and tears fall so does a rose

Fallen in sorrow ,

Wilted by time it stands bewiltered that red rose you sent,

The wall tumbles;

Cleansed by the sorrow pain awaits time to mend,

sadness from words so broken that the vase tips

on the table,

a ever ending rose remain  wilts,

The wall tumbles;

AS time goes a new vase  is upon us,

A flower is there to follow again,

as the times gentle touch,,

The wall tumbles;

Smiles abound and tears follow ,

we see time go by so quickly,

The heart has  shadows that can't be followed,

We see those who reached  out stumble,

The wall tumbles;

In endless  messages we reach for a chance to view love,

we see no vase no flowers,

As we look we see our walls like stone ,

and still stand to the test of time,

Strength to the words that capture our nights,

As the wall stands

time remains so does friendship,

In deepness as a special commitment,

Never again  will  this wall tumble,

our friendship to last ,

and meet the test of time,

To last forever as strong as the wall ,

As long as the walls don't tumble,

and still stay standing,

reflective are the once pain  we felt ,

 when once in love, we'll  remember 

Walls wont tumble;

Hanger

Walls don't tumble only people and words,

without faith we are lost,

without hope we perish, without love we are lost.

Hanger    1999

Beauty of a Rose

Many see roses as a sigh of love

I see them as a thing of beauty.

Never to be cut foolishly,

Never to be given but to be watched in a garden .

Given only tender care.

by loving hands of one with a heart for its care ,

Held in tenderness with each cut to make it bloom more.

Never held, for the thorns gives the pain, for its losses
as time passes and the rose wilts .

To the garden,

to the vase, upon the mantle,

that is upon you as its beauty fades,

Hanger