In The Q u i e t s

In the quiets, one can hear th' beating of their Heart;
Haunting, yet comely; soft echo of a weary drummer.
Close your eyes, and in that moment, you are pulled-
Into th' calm of a distant world...away fr'm all chaos,
Somewhere 'tween th' silence.....and th' exhillaration,
A place wher' yo'r dreams are safe fr'm mad demons,
Like Emerald City, sans th' Wicked Witch o' th' West.
Feel th' peace within, dwell in th' sweet of th' poppies;
No place like home, perhaps, still dreams yeild peace.
Open yo'r eyes to th' new day...th' quiets have spoken.

poem by Frank James Ryan Jr.
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!