Tag: time

Once In A Visit

We watched the snow together

frost paned windows,

I could feel your presence,

you told me you wanted more.

I hadn’t ever told you before,

I was afraid I might lose you,

in the balance of a life,

we always make decisions,

impact a lifetime.

I had to be sure,

just wanted to know.

If what we believe true

we might last a lifetime,

traveling paths,

supporting one another,

seems does fly by,

and before we know it,

those moments in eyes,

all turned into sighs.

If We Could Change

What would we be

if we stayed the same,

if our lives didn’t change,

we would certainly wonder

what might be different

what may lay ahead

that we would be

leaving to challenge.

Yet do you ever embrace

what could be a lovely outcome?

What is the looking glass

across the room seeing,

will you know the same

if you step outside,

crystals and glass

follow you.

Or are you creating

new imagery

with your shiny eyes

glancing along a path?

Perhaps we all need to

trust our Looking Glass.

A Quiet Time

When stepping off

With nowhere to land

We settled anywhere

A quiet place

A quiet time

The silence surrounding me

Felt peaceful, unafraid

I wandered further

And the world around me began to


Just this once

I felt no emotion

Only a moment

Inside my composure

Did I step outside

My comfort zone

Only once

A quiet time.

One Day In Time

I thought about this

quite some time

a discrepancy

a moment sublime.

I thought about one day

I made up my mind.

I thought about love

I seemed to glance above,

only to find,

I was losing my mind.

Some choices

were meant to be blind.

I was meant to survive

to find solace in my rewind.

Seems we always recall

a necessary fall

that covers us all

with an insecure gall.

I wondered about time

in the span of a day,

a wandering respite

took a while now today.

A Sunny Day

Rays of light peek through shuttered windows

shall the slats be opened or assure privacy,

a morning of which one surely glows

the energy blocked would be a travesty.


At my desk I look for inspiration

seems the night put aside

for the moment is more solution

to dredging horrors inside.


If present means a slow journey

then this my day would tell

a starting point with no hurry

only desire deep in the well.


I would climb if love awaits me

or choose to find what must be.

© Thom Amundsen 10/2021

Common Fears

I have fears, they are frequent

I have moments I wish I could cry

I have fears, and they are frequent

Wonder how many years, will I sigh


Wonder how many years, will I try


I can’t stand to storm the thinking

When I weep I still feel connected

Times like this I wish life were blinding

Moments will pass, seconds undetected


Wonder how many years, will I try


I want to hang on to this forever

Was a light I might have seen in retrospect

Don’t want to let go, don’t want to ever

I wish only that she know my – this respect.


Wonder how many years, will I try


As bones and veins and heart might decline

I wonder about the truth of roses and wine

I know that life contains only time

Only facets of lives important to rhyme


Wonder how many years, will I try

Wonder how many years, will I try


© Thom Amundsen 10/2021

If She Knew

There in the wind lays definition,

she called them changing winds.

If we could recreate days of passion

perhaps then love properly gleaned.


Yet days and hours of time forgotten,

though symbolic reminders lay about

we could in simple terms relive again.

Beauty in circumstance beyond doubt.


Oh follow me on this our sensual journey

Oh follow me is this our sensual journey

Oh follow me will be our sensual journey


For it is the two of us no longer paired

though in our time so loved had we dared.

Go on and on and on as well we cared,

yes love does happen practiced and paired.


Oh follow me in this our constant journey.


© Thom Amundsen 10/1

Waiting Now

If only a lifetime lasted forever

then now could become a yesterday,

a lost moment brings everyone together.

Yet why then must we all act this way.


It would seem lives are meant forgotten

rather than holding beauty inside moments,

so quick we are to run away, call it rotten.

We somehow imagine now this our lament


Our lives holding only so many truths we hear,

yet time and again we might feel too near.

Our lives holding only so many truths we hear,

yet time and again we will feel that fear.


Yet time and again we would feel too near.


© Thom Amundsen 10/1

Living Lost

For a long time,

could almost count the

hours and hours and hours

we all have them

the knowledge that one day,

all of our utter


will wake you from a dream

so you may glance back

only to say

what if.

© Thom Amundsen 9/2021