I wrote this one morning while sitting on the outside stairs of my apt. building and having my coffee.
Listen...
Listen...
The sound of someone sweeping a walk;
Of birds, crickets and locust each singing it's own song.
The sound of traffic on a distant road,
And of children playing at games long forgotten by mothers and fathers.
Listen...
The sound of a jet in a lonely sky
Growling loudly at those who stand in wander.
The tinkling chain of a dog that lays
bathing itself beneath a soundless sun,
And of the gentle breeze whispering out to us
of it's own existence.
Listen...
The sound of a mower on a suburban lawn.
The squeaky wheel of a bicycle being ridden away
To an unknown destination.
The sound of a water hose bringing welcomed
Relief to splashing feet.
A baby crying,
A church bell ringing,
A bird taking wing.
Shh..Listen.
Written by
Gary Duckett
Listen...
Listen...
The sound of someone sweeping a walk;
Of birds, crickets and locust each singing it's own song.
The sound of traffic on a distant road,
And of children playing at games long forgotten by mothers and fathers.
Listen...
The sound of a jet in a lonely sky
Growling loudly at those who stand in wander.
The tinkling chain of a dog that lays
bathing itself beneath a soundless sun,
And of the gentle breeze whispering out to us
of it's own existence.
Listen...
The sound of a mower on a suburban lawn.
The squeaky wheel of a bicycle being ridden away
To an unknown destination.
The sound of a water hose bringing welcomed
Relief to splashing feet.
A baby crying,
A church bell ringing,
A bird taking wing.
Shh..Listen.
Written by
Gary Duckett
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