Jeff Nesvig

someone's in the kitchen singing soft and low

I can smell an apple pie it's cooling on the window sill

words so beautiful sung by an angel

I can feel her warm embrace.

 

our living room is quiet now

the kids have grown and moved away

but the memories of little voices still keep me awake at night

I still listen to what they have to say.

 

when I close my eyes I can taste that apple pie

I can see her standing in front of the sink

singing Hallelujah as she washes pots and pans

halleluiah through the night.

 

I've been behind this plow all day long

chopping wood and feeding hogs

remembering how she always made me smile.

 

the tears fall down like summer rain

and sometimes I feel I just can't stand the pain

but here memory is all I left to live with so I keep on going

to see her each new day.

 

one foot in front of the other

one day at a time

this old farm would fall apart without me

so I wipe the tears and dust off my hat

and follow that plow one row at a time.

 

I can still smell that apple pie

cooling on the window sill

and she still makes me smile

hallelujah through the night.

 

*


listen quietly

touch my words with your heart

there's a fire burning

desire in flame

lonely calls the warm ember’s name.

 

clearly a trick of the mind

gently laid to rest

one time mistakenly answers

another time dreams of flesh

still these words reach out

waiting on hearts to call.

 

My eyes are open

As my limbs lay still

Creating the story of her love

Blessings that come from up above

Fill the pages of my life.

 

The stroke of my pen forever makes her mine

Inside I see the words that are spoken

Another day another time.



*



Pictures of the moon hanging in the sky

Portraits in the window

Voices asking questions

The cradle’s in the mire.

 

Have you seen the setting sun

The ocean is its home

Forty leagues beneath sea

The ospreys are coming home.

 

Painted stories pass thru time

Water color memories fill my mind

Passing visions

Passing hands

Pillars of salt in the sand.

 

All that is gold

All that is pleasing to the eye

Passes without notice

Never leaving but hiding deep inside.

 

Patients in the window waiting for its time

Silver dollar dreams and illusions wait behind

Alive inside a glass of wine

The teller speaks of adventurous lies

One taker at a time.

 

The crow has come to call

Three crosses on the hill

Life ever after given for one

And just for a moment time stood still.

 



 Jeff Nesvig is a writer living in Florida.



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