Standing on the old stone bridge that spans the timeless, reedy stream, <br />flowing soft; l gaze, and ponder on a love, that might have been. <br />l watch the gentle eddies quietly spinning round until they die, <br />fading into nothingness... like hopes, once spun by you, and l. <br /> <br />A breeze moves soft, across the water; tugging at its glassy sheen; <br />trailing whispering ripples all across the mirror of the stream, <br />and yet, it is enough... a faint disturbance of the harmony; <br />how like, this hope of love, we had... yet knowing, it could never be. <br /> <br />The reedy borders of the stream rustle in this impudent breeze <br />that seems to spring from no-where... for, there is no movement in the trees; <br />how like... the tiny doubts, that crept into this love; for, it would seem <br />from no-where, was this shadow cast... across the landscape of our dreams. <br /> <br />And, yet... the stream goes drifting on; soft babbling, in its gentle flow, <br />carrying my thoughts away... away; to where... I cannot know. <br />l know that we both recognized the melody to love's old song... <br />perhaps, it was the tempo... or the lyrics, that we just got wrong. <br /> <br />The Western sky is painted gold now, by the swiftly sinking sun; <br />l gaze back down, into the water... timeless, in its gentle run; <br />gliding quietly ever onwards... just a little reedy stream... <br />that listened to my silent words about a love, that might have been.<br /><br />Dream Weaver<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/reflections-in-a-reedy-stream/
