JEFF NESVIG

Yesterday


I heard the cries of love and pain today

echoing thru the halls and chambers of my mind.

 

the constant song of yesterday plays its thunderous roll

as the music shakes my body and soul

I keep looking for the answers that hide behind each door.

 

if I step outside will the sun touch down on me

and release my vision of a dream

that takes me back to yesterday

I can hear the angels sing.

 

every day is just like the rest

but yesterday is still a dream that takes me far away

to the place that I remember in the cool November breeze.

 

and when I close my eyes that's when I see

the songs of yesterday

soft and smooth with a thunderous roll

that brought me here today.

 

the sunshine waits outside the door

to wake me from this dream

just one step closer and I can hear the angels sing

the songs of yesterday

 

the echoes of an early time that take me far away.


The Raven


She lifted it gently off the wall

And looked into the eyes

Of the reflection and the picture

That looked back at her from behind the frame and glass.

 

They looked into her eyes of blue

As she moved slowly across the wooden floor

She smiled as she closed her eyes

And danced the dance of memories

As she tried not to cry.

 

Now the raven is in the window

And yesterday is waiting at the door

Looking for a lonely heart

For just one more dance across the wooden floor.

 

And still the raven is in the window.

 

Many a night and many a dream

She shared a quiet smile

With the reflection behind the frame and glass

While she danced with yesterday across the wooden floor.

 

And her eyes of blue would tell the truth

Of the feelings that she has

As she looks at the reflection looking back

From behind the frame and glass.

 

And still the raven is in the window.

 

But her dreams are all she has

While she opens the door for yesterday

And dances across the wooden floor.

 

And while the raven is still in the window

She closes her eyes and dreams

She remembers everything

As she dances with yesterday across the wooden floor.

 

And still the raven is in the window.


the quiet noise


the quiet noise of life passes by

riding on the winds of change

and as it surrounds the city streets

I can hear the children sing.

 

so I peel me an orange

just to see the seeds inside

and watch the blossoms grow

then take my time as I wipe the juice up off the floor

 

so many days I've sat right here

dropping orange peels on the floor

waiting for the sun to shine down on me

as the winds of change comfort my soul.

 

so I'll peel another orange

just to see the seeds inside

then watch the blossoms grow

and I'll take my time and wipe the juice up off the floor.

 

and the quite noise of life brings sunshine thru my open door

riding on the winds of change

wiping orange juice up off the floor.




Jeff Nesvig is a writer living in San Diego, California.


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