You must visit Sean Bidd’s blog.  He certainly has a gift!

Written by Sean Bidd and HastyWords

Collected hand prints, color their conversations

Pockets full of words, in dreams their imaginations wasted

Stories lost in cracks, where the darkest shadows know

Disappearing prose, shallow sow evade the rampant senses

Faded voices listen, leaving echoes upon walls

Tongues speak of notes, inflections deep in tone

Sounds evade in valleys, as ghosts dance in the dark

Dissipating song, whispers vanishing into night

Collected hand prints, leave their history upon rock faces

Pockets full of words, tell of legends old and ancient

Stories lost in cracks, for the passing of a people

Disappearing prose, passed along the generations

 Faded voices listen, as we tread upon their land

Tongues speak of notes, but only in our heads

Sounds evade in valleys, but the air offered no escape

Dissipating song, is all that’s left of lives gone so long

Collected hand prints, dance in a fresh breeze, where

Pockets full of words, wake from within their sleep, to

Stories lost in cracks, as they journey far beneath, a

Disappearing prose, where the lines they challenge first

 Faded voices listen, as stories are left to be retold

Tongues speak of notes, in pictorial display on cavern walls

Sounds evade in valleys, as we let them live inside our head

Dissipating song, reviving the spirit of those now dead

Collected hand prints, may we see in each reflection

Pockets full of words, might we share once more a time

Stories lost in cracks, grant us strangers on the moor

Disappearing prose, hand us morning’s mist escape

 Faded voices listen, as historical works of art are seen

Tongues speak of notes, a wisdom for modern society

Sounds evade in valleys, battle cries embedded in fabric

Dissipating song, all part of a memorial to our ancestry