Tiny pieces of memories, little scraps.
Ones that surface in your mind
When you hover just above sleep.
The ones you thought you'd never find.

When you're wide awake they aren't there.
Like the name of the dog down the street.
You heard that name a thousand times.
He was a good dog, Loving and sweet.

But when you close your eyes and relax
Lay back to take a short nap.
Suddenly in your mind a whisper says:
"His name was George." Another scrap.

So does our life sneak up on us.
With a few of those forgotten things.
It's nice to know that somewhere
In our head, a little bell still rings.

By Swampetta (SWAMPETTA@aol.com)




Garden Haiku

Life Excites Me

There Are Not Enough

From A High Place ( 14 Authors )

Mama Was A Refrigerator


Mark Twain

Little Teacher ( 6 Authors )

In The Mind of a Poet

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