The sounds of a piano
Notes falling like raindrops onto the still water
Their ripples spreading, mixing
To stir the grains of thought
On the shore of that mysterious sea.
October 29, 2009 by Jan Freeman
The sounds of a piano
Notes falling like raindrops onto the still water
Their ripples spreading, mixing
To stir the grains of thought
On the shore of that mysterious sea.
That last comment you left me kinda confused me… Were you literally meaning “who doesn’t know themselves?” or were you asking “who” as in who the poem was about? I’m sorry… I’m normally a really intelligent guy, but this comment left me quite lost. I guess what I’m asking is if your comment was a compliment or not??? Anyways… I’m glad you responded. I’ve kept up on your writing over the past few months. I just quit leaving comments because you didn’t respond back very often. If there is one thing that I truly am, it’s very mannerly & respectful of others personal space. I just kinda took it as you didn’t like to chat much so I left you alone! It’s good to here from you and I hope all is well… Keep up your great writing…
SORRY!!! I meant “it’s good to HEAR from you! LOL!!
Thanks, I’m glad you came by. I enjoyed your poem. The “who” I referred to was the reader. Like many others, I should imagine, if I don’t respond it’s because I can’t find anything appropriate and meaningful to say.