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Bryn Jun 2013
Would you like a cup of tea?

Milk?

Sugar?

Wine perhaps?

Here, come sit with me, let us eat expensive cheese,

and talk about cheesy things.

Like how sunsets are always free,

and about how the waves are neverendingly faithful
to the shore. Let us sit
in a swinging love seat,
 and drink our wine
from tea mugs, so the elderly couple
across the street
doesn't cast us disapproval.

Let me lay my head upon your shoulder,
while you contemplate the mysteries of the universe.

Exclaiming how brilliant the stars shine their light from so far away,

when all the light I need
is from you.

Let us eat the expensive cheese,
because love is no expense
when our sunsets are free.
If anybody has a good title, that would be much appreciated :)
Bryn May 2013
Our very existence was the dust in the  wind,

and the remnants of our love,

speckled across the night sky,
Bryn May 2013
They stand on the corner
By the cross walk,
No matter the weather.
Clothed in black,
Pockets down by knees,
They stand in a circle -
Black sore on the sidewalk.

They stand on the sidewalk
Smoking cigarettes,
Cigarettes drooping.
Almost falling, but not quite
from mouths held in sneers
Mouths speaking jeers -
Black air on the corner.

Eye down,
breath held,
pace quickened,
others,
sidestep,
intimidated,
by those smokin' on the corner.
Until I was 10, on my way to school I had to walk through the "Smoker's Corner" where all the high school students who smoked had their morning cigarettes. I wrote this poem when I was 9, and I was absolutely terrified.
Bryn May 2013
My dad has lines. He has lines around his eyes and on his forehead.
But they aren't frown lines, they are laugh lines. They represent good times.
My mother has them too.
They represent dancing with us in the early morning, with the music turned all the way up.

My laugh lines aren't showing yet, but when they do, I am going to be proud.
Proud because I have proof of a well lived life.
No frown lines for me, just laugh lines.
Lines that have meaning.
Lines.
Going through old journals and finding poems that I wrote when I was 10
Bryn May 2013
You brought home peaches today,
in a small woven basket that smelt like sunshine.
I told you I'd make peach cobbler with them.
And when I went to get the pie pan out but there was already cobbler there.

I turned to you confused and you
Smiled a sad smile
Took my hand in yours and lead me to my rocking chair.
Told me that I looked beautiful today-
that you loved me.
I laughed a little laugh,
I'm sorry sir, you are kind, but we just met!
Again you smiled your sad smile,
took my left hand in yours,
We've been married for 46 years

You brought home peaches today,
in a small woven basket that smelt like sunshine.
I told you I'd make peach cobbler with them.
And when I went to get the pie pan out but there was already cobbler there.
Just a reflection on some family members getting older
Bryn May 2013
I bought a new swimsuit today,
pulling the material tight across my body.
Seams stretching,
Arms stretching as we bath in the free sunshine.
Bare feet, bare skin, and we bare our hearts as well.
You drink in the air, and I drink in you.
Too much, too fast.
Intoxication, infatuation-
found side by side in my thesaurus that sits on my shelf.
My shelf that holds all my swimsuits,
all with the tags still attached.
Bryn Apr 2013
Our bed is an ocean,
your body my boat.

Let us explore the sea of our sheets,
as I explore you.

Twisting, curling linens
and I curl into you.

Our bed is an ocean,
your body my boat.
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