Daily Selected Poems : Michael Goodwin

A RAINY DAY

Would we ever know of laughter
till the end of time has come
for we looked upon each other
at the rising of the Sun
and no one thought of everything
yet we see the battle won
and we watch the final curtain drawn
will this just be the day
and still we gaze along the shore
without new words to say
and love has come and taken us
and all our dreams away
and I wondered can love see us know
upon this rainy day…
And the wind grows tall and spreads the leaves
and the valley turns to dust
and the fields are wet and worn and pale
and filled with wanderlust
and heaven seems so far away
as we fall towards the light
and only hope has words to say
as day becomes the night
and I hold your hand and turn your way
and look in eyes so clear
did I give to you my only love
or shelter from my fears
for love has come and taken us
and all our dreams away
and I wondered can love see us now
upon this rainy day…
And the rain it falls and fills the stream
where dreams were left to seed
and thorns are stood upon the shore
another day to bleed
and I see the light upon the skies
that calls us from above
and shows us where to sow the dream
and tells us how to love
and I look at tears upon your eyes
where beauty falls my way
and love has come and taken us
and all our dreams away
and I wondered can love see us now
upon this rainy day
would love be sure to see us now
upon this rainy day…

……………………………………………..

THE MISSION BELL

My love, she waits by the sycamore tree
with her eyes so soft and so brown
and she sings with the blackbird at earliest dawn
spreading her love all around
and she whispers so softly and calls out my name
and I’m drawn to the touch of her spell
for love is the poet who writes down the words
and love is the mission bell…
And we speak of the daybreak and hearts that are lost
and we walk upon valleys and hills
and the silence is beauty wrapped in her smile
as the wind calls so gentle and still
will she love me tomorrow and love me today
as the blossom it falls on the dell
for love is the poet who writes down the words
and love is the mission bell…
And I know of her longings and I know of her fear
for the nightingale sings in the dark
and I touch her so tender and hold her so near
yet something would keep us apart
would the eyes of the raven tell us our fate
or dreams that she never could tell
for love is the poet who writes down the words
and love is the mission bell…
And my love, she waits by the sycamore tree
and walks through the mists of her soul
Is it love that has broken her pretty brown eyes
and left her so sweet and alone
and I look till I find her to hold her so close
Is love but a promise we sell?
for love is the poet who writes down the words
and love is the mission bell
and love is the mission bell…

.

Copyright@Michael Goodwin