Whispering Tears

By Gordon Morrow

From the tear drops of angels. These writings come. These are the tears with-in the tranquilized warmth of our children. From the graceful willows spoken through the eyes of a dream-teller. Soft words dancing naked upon the wedge of feathers, for the people of the world. For with-in the corridors of whispering tears. The children sing to the soft morning mist. For the tenderness of love and happiness. So allow the shadowed moon flowers of our children to eclipse he wings of life around you. Yes these writings are of our children. The most wonderful reflection we will ever know. Illuminating the twinkling of precious memories. So thank the lord of evening prayers, for the gift of a child, is here.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AUK Authors
• Release date: Nov 29, 2012
• ISBN: 9781782344919

Book preview

1988.

Broken Windows

From the tiny faces of children

Faces piercing into the quite centre of ones heart

As a child sings upon the shadow of a bent arrow

Flinching with the winds of time

For within the tear drops, touching the child of silence

Looking through the dust of a broken window

Forever crossing the footsteps that divide the desert sand

So silent from the ribbon of moonlight

Try to hear the voice crying from within the broken window

For there in the darkness stands a child, that cries only for

the tenderness of love.

Reach out and feel the fascinating an unusual demand

Floating within the sensitivity of a soft breeze.

Rustled tear drops from within the heart

Reach out for the magic.....

See the tear drops seldom seen.

As the feather is fluffed upon the chill of night.

For there the most magical memory of all awaits

Tiny faces trying to smile through the broken window.

Yes these children to, are the magic faces of hope

Hidden behind the broken window

For these fascinating and unusual demand is only to be loved.

From behind the.......

Dust of a Broken Window.

Wings Of Elegance

Graceful reapings sculptured upon the innocents of another

Castings the ominous shadows upon the dawns of mornings

For this child has opened the eyes to the ancient sentry of my heart

Sending me so graciously into the warmth of youthful dreams

So blind was I to the smouldering tears

Falling upon the slow mist of her soul

A child moves upon the wings of elegance

Soft reflections within jewel toned eyes

As soft as the humming bird of sleep

For a child is a gust of spring air

Glowing from within the....

Trinkets of candle fire

Escaping the silence within falling leaves

As the whispered shadows from the northern horizon