If my heart had a voice it would tell me
That I was still in love
Though I turned back
Ran from the rain
Ran from your face
The rain is still falling
If I’d only listen I’ll still hear
The sound of your name
Though I often refrain
From being still enough
To bear the pain
If I’d keep quiet long
Your eyes can be found
When I gaze out and stare
As if you were there
So I’d keep ever busy
So I wouldn’t cry
And friends ask me why
I’m drowning in tears
Remembering Years
In Silence
Copyright © on 22/11/07 by Hadassah Noel
Tuesday, August 5, 2008
STORY OF OUR LIVES
‘Tis a beautiful story to be told,
The story of our lives and how they unfold.
Our opening chapters tears and laughter,
And how we thereafter try to find laughter.
Our every page though maybe different,
Yet ironically will have similar content.
Chapters on grief seem to never end,
But pages of joy are around the bend.
Some lengthy parts we read swiftly,
But meaning comes when read slowly.
Each page embraces a new day a new sun,
Each day a story has begun.
Our story of life we each day write,
Most dark as night and so few bright.
When our last page turns and all is read,
Do we remain alive or are we all dead?
It matters then on the life that was read.
Copyright © on 3/11/05 by Hadassah Noel
The story of our lives and how they unfold.
Our opening chapters tears and laughter,
And how we thereafter try to find laughter.
Our every page though maybe different,
Yet ironically will have similar content.
Chapters on grief seem to never end,
But pages of joy are around the bend.
Some lengthy parts we read swiftly,
But meaning comes when read slowly.
Each page embraces a new day a new sun,
Each day a story has begun.
Our story of life we each day write,
Most dark as night and so few bright.
When our last page turns and all is read,
Do we remain alive or are we all dead?
It matters then on the life that was read.
Copyright © on 3/11/05 by Hadassah Noel
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