If you’d let me
I’d sing you to sleep
A lullaby
Good night
Sweet dreams
Til morning, my love
Suits you so well, it seems
But I don’t know, do I
I’m best left like this
Longing
For your words
And you
Where ever you are
I had to have a listen, as it had been a while since I’d heard that song. I used to love that song so much. A younger Audrey was a romantic even then… Now I’ll be connecting it with you. How nice.
I’m glad you like my poetry, Randall. An artist of your ability, saying such kind words about my humble attempts is hard to accept. However, I will. Thank you.
I had to have a listen to it as well. I had it on a mix cassette that someone sent me in China back in the early 90s. An artist of my ability…artistry is strange, most people I know would not think of me as an artist ~ so don’t be fooled π
A mixed tape, well, she must have loved you and missed you terribly.
Viewing your blog posts, soaking in your photos, and allowing your words to filter through me happen to bring me a lot of joy. Your art, which I love, has been created from something inside of you. I believe you to be the best kind of artist, Randall. You catch beauty, love, peace and devotion in so many of your photos. I can tell it is what you search for in this life. I am happy to be allowed a view. Thank you. Maybe I am a fool. I never said I wasn’t. π
Yes, I know. I always wake up feeling much better for writing them, however. The aching poems are the hardest poems to share. I have to do it sometimes just to prove to myself that I’m no chicken.
And on that note… I’m off to bed. Sure could use a lullaby right now. And along with that a massage, for the body and the spirit…
Sleep tight and sweet dreams Audrey. May you hear a soft lullaby as you drift off.
π
Great poem. This made me think of the song “Drift off to Dream” by Travis Tritt. Wonderful poem.
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I had to have a listen, as it had been a while since I’d heard that song. I used to love that song so much. A younger Audrey was a romantic even then… Now I’ll be connecting it with you. How nice.
I’m glad you like my poetry, Randall. An artist of your ability, saying such kind words about my humble attempts is hard to accept. However, I will. Thank you.
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I had to have a listen to it as well. I had it on a mix cassette that someone sent me in China back in the early 90s. An artist of my ability…artistry is strange, most people I know would not think of me as an artist ~ so don’t be fooled π
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A mixed tape, well, she must have loved you and missed you terribly.
Viewing your blog posts, soaking in your photos, and allowing your words to filter through me happen to bring me a lot of joy. Your art, which I love, has been created from something inside of you. I believe you to be the best kind of artist, Randall. You catch beauty, love, peace and devotion in so many of your photos. I can tell it is what you search for in this life. I am happy to be allowed a view. Thank you. Maybe I am a fool. I never said I wasn’t. π
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This poem aches….
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Yes, I know. I always wake up feeling much better for writing them, however. The aching poems are the hardest poems to share. I have to do it sometimes just to prove to myself that I’m no chicken.
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Audith, sometimes your poems make me so curious!
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Duketh, what I would give to see your face when you have this curious look on your face. Ha! *smiles*
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I imagine it looks serious, but I don’t know…
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A serious curious face…that’s serious, Duke. What has you stumped?
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Well, I can’t see myself, you know.
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*laughs* I was thinking you’d say thatβ¦I almost said it!
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*laughs*
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*smiles at your laughing*
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And on that note… I’m off to bed. Sure could use a lullaby right now. And along with that a massage, for the body and the spirit…
Sleep tight and sweet dreams Audrey. May you hear a soft lullaby as you drift off.
π
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Good night, Staci. You go find ya some, okay?!
Thank you, my friend. I’m listening to some as I type. Sad songs get me every time. π
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Hope you had a great sleep. π
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I did! Thank you π
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Do not waste song on those who choose not to listen, Audrey, right?
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Right. No song wasting done here, Mark. Just poetry and real emotion…tis all.
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T’is enough. T’is a’plenty.
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Tis true. Tis too much sometimes.
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I’m just about off to bed so start singing a lullaby.
It has been a long, lovely, warm day at last.
Leslie
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I’m on it! π
Good night, Leslie
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Good night Audrey.
Leslie
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