These Dusty Boots.
Set aside there awaiting to be washed
Those dusty boots that tromped awhile
Through the laughter of the trail
The wonder and beauty of sunlight upon the palms
Dancing eucalyptus high upon the blue sky.
My lovers hand in mine.
Those dusty boots
beside the dog once a puppy beloved by all.
Souls of youth delighting in his age
yet now bemoaning,"duty " tasks now that he is home,charm is fleeting appreciation fades.
Moments remind me of days gone under that bridge
Those dusty boots muddied only by my tears.
knowing one day they shall be clean
as only the passing years.
Children grow and time is still for non
These days will be memory
A story retold
Blue boots with a blacken sole
laces lax as now I rest a while
as I reflect on the life of each child
The sullen face of this soon to be a teen.
The grumpy little man with feet in forbidden waters.
Will one day be grown and sorrow will take me
Oh these muddy boots have walked a mile.
They were laced in Russia and saw the toil.
Felt the lack of a people with out hope
They tramped in the desert and on the mountain side
with those that I loved around me
With those who God loves before me
Oh those muddy boots sitting there
wrap up for me all these cares
Dusty and dirty they sit in
utter beauty upon my floor.
They are calling to me to walk another mile.
They remind me to softly smile
Slip them on
Those dusty boots
Lace them up into a half hitch bow.
prepare my wherry soul for my next path.
To earn the mile, views there of.
So at that next days end I can pull them off once again.
Those dusty boots that tromped awhile
Through the laughter of the trail
The wonder and beauty of sunlight upon the palms
Dancing eucalyptus high upon the blue sky.
My lovers hand in mine.
Those dusty boots
beside the dog once a puppy beloved by all.
Souls of youth delighting in his age
yet now bemoaning,"duty " tasks now that he is home,charm is fleeting appreciation fades.
Moments remind me of days gone under that bridge
Those dusty boots muddied only by my tears.
knowing one day they shall be clean
as only the passing years.
Children grow and time is still for non
These days will be memory
A story retold
Blue boots with a blacken sole
laces lax as now I rest a while
as I reflect on the life of each child
The sullen face of this soon to be a teen.
The grumpy little man with feet in forbidden waters.
Will one day be grown and sorrow will take me
Oh these muddy boots have walked a mile.
They were laced in Russia and saw the toil.
Felt the lack of a people with out hope
They tramped in the desert and on the mountain side
with those that I loved around me
With those who God loves before me
Oh those muddy boots sitting there
wrap up for me all these cares
Dusty and dirty they sit in
utter beauty upon my floor.
They are calling to me to walk another mile.
They remind me to softly smile
Slip them on
Those dusty boots
Lace them up into a half hitch bow.
prepare my wherry soul for my next path.
To earn the mile, views there of.
So at that next days end I can pull them off once again.
2 comments:
A lovely poem. It reached in and grabbed my heart. Thank you, and again, thank you...
Awesome poem my friend.
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