A Sixpack of PBR Poetry 4

The sound of the music always drifts me back through my mind.
To another time in my life I do venture.
Lost wondering along the Potomac I sit and gaze upon the past.
Simple aspirations of my future,
That have today come to pass.

To hear these notes of simple orchestra,
The epic tales of string they spin.
Transfix me today until I hear another blend of time.
I still sense the smells of that day.
The river, the carriage house, and gardens,
To my nose they do expose the rhyme.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s