A Poem In Memory Of Mattie Blades
Titled, "Bluebird of Happiness"
And in the valley beneath
the mountains of my youth,
lies the river of my tears.
As it wends its way
to the ocean of my dreams,
so long ago they have gone.
And yet, if I were but to think anew,
would these dreams evaporate
in my mind and become
the morning dew upon a supple rose
whose beauty is enhanced with
these glistening drops,
as the sun of life peeks o'er
the mountains when youth was full.
Then I must not supply
this endless fountain
that creates the river
of my tears but look beyond
those mountains where
the bluebird of happiness flies."
~George J Carroll
_____________________________________
Titled, "Bluebird of Happiness"
And in the valley beneath
the mountains of my youth,
lies the river of my tears.
As it wends its way
to the ocean of my dreams,
so long ago they have gone.
And yet, if I were but to think anew,
would these dreams evaporate
in my mind and become
the morning dew upon a supple rose
whose beauty is enhanced with
these glistening drops,
as the sun of life peeks o'er
the mountains when youth was full.
Then I must not supply
this endless fountain
that creates the river
of my tears but look beyond
those mountains where
the bluebird of happiness flies."
~George J Carroll
_____________________________________
A Poem In Memory Of Mattie Blades
Titled, "Bluebird of Happiness"
And in the valley beneath
the mountains of my youth,
lies the river of my tears.
As it wends its way
to the ocean of my dreams,
so long ago they have gone.
And yet, if I were but to think anew,
would these dreams evaporate
in my mind and become
the morning dew upon a supple rose
whose beauty is enhanced with
these glistening drops,
as the sun of life peeks o'er
the mountains when youth was full.
Then I must not supply
this endless fountain
that creates the river
of my tears but look beyond
those mountains where
the bluebird of happiness flies."
~George J Carroll
_____________________________________
Titled, "Bluebird of Happiness"
And in the valley beneath
the mountains of my youth,
lies the river of my tears.
As it wends its way
to the ocean of my dreams,
so long ago they have gone.
And yet, if I were but to think anew,
would these dreams evaporate
in my mind and become
the morning dew upon a supple rose
whose beauty is enhanced with
these glistening drops,
as the sun of life peeks o'er
the mountains when youth was full.
Then I must not supply
this endless fountain
that creates the river
of my tears but look beyond
those mountains where
the bluebird of happiness flies."
~George J Carroll
_____________________________________
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