To search the winter lean and long,
for early signs of coming spring,
on snow sprayed fields now all aglow,
  on every little whispered wing,

Tis hardest in this icy air,
alone with frozen thought,
to seek the thaw you asked of me,
when love was freely taught,

In buds of red I wish to hold,
and not my stubborn,
warming glow,
your spring awaits with daffodil,
beneath the wet and melted snow,

I await you dear with frozen breath
eternally I wait for thee
tis I that seek your stubborn glow
your warmth is what will set me free

I take your mind
to yesteryear
when spring came easy then
to take us back to times we know
to love your way
back home again

In simple terms a simple love
I beckon from my frozen hill
to bring you back here in the spring
and not
against your needed will

I wait for you
I wait for thee
*my Sunny Springtime Daffodil

he chose to lie here
she chose
a sandy beach

David Hewitt & @journeyofdays

no bodies lie here yet
they are still on holidays

David Hewitt & @journeyofdays

his cooking was ordinary
cough
she chose to lie here

David Hewitt & @journeyofdays

she threatened him
with a holiday
and here she lies

David Hewitt & @journeyofdays

she threatened him
with a holiday
large pizza for one

David Hewitt & @journeyofdays

his cooking was crap
laundry skills
well they were mad

David Hewitt & @journeyofdays

September morning and the blush pink of a child's eyelid
layers
With soft Wedgewood blue
And a silvery white.
Feathery treetops shiver in the light breeze
And there is a delicious chill in the air.
Contrails break apart in slow motion
Resting on the daybreak's skyline.

A blackbird hops across the dewy grass
To take his morning slice of stale bread.
Rose petals crimped and heavy wait
Patiently to be dried in the pastel sun.

There is no sadness as the summer slips by;
Just memories of freshly mown grass
On parish fields, of light, of warmth,
Of sea and country walks
Sweetening, like apples
In a sand box.

I am wanting to thank some very incredible people.
I also am hoping others will , also.
With that in mind I would like to list
ten poets here I feel people need to read.
My list consists of poets who are always active and generous ,
have good humor and sense.
I would like others to add their ten to my list.
And hopefully everyone eventually gets a shout out.
In the comments list ten poets you admire and would like to see
others appreciate. I will add  them to this list.
If you would like to list more feel free , the more the merrier, and the more
poets get a shout out and their name shared. I will add as many as you can type!
After all , this is goodwill and spirit and sharing and I feel good .


Vicki
Mark Cleavenger
Terry Collett
Ja
Sally Bayan
Emily Burns
Jules Winerose
Lady RF
Sukanya Sinha Roy
Valsa George
(Bill Hughes contributed the following)
Mary Winslow
Randolph L. Wilson
Elizabeth J
Bex
Ezra Warhol
my dearest reno
Wordvango
Jeff Stier
taia iverson
Dave Hewitt
Kristy Renae Dalton
(added by Eric W)
SPT
Doug Potter
Lola Park
SoulSurvivor
Inevitably Raised By Ducks
(added by Vicki)
Shawna Michele
Spygrandson
r
Woody
Pradip Chattopadhyay
SJR 1000
the seatbelt effect
Sonja Benskin Mesher
Don't Call Me Johnny
nivek
WL Winter
K Mae
Liz Balize
patty m
Pamela Rae
Sean Tierney
William Poppen
Michael Kagan
Biche
Irinia
Mikeccc
Paul Gaffney
Karina Norris Viers
Dawn
Brother Jimmy
Anthony
Phil Roberts
David Ehrgott
Jason Clarke
Angstrom
Jamadhi Verse
born
Weeping Willow
Terry Jordan
Traveler
Tonya Maria
CA Guilfoyle
elizabeth j
Grumpy Thumb
David Patrick O'C
f
(added by Sukanya Sinha Roy)
Eli N
Poetryjournal
Traveller
The Dead Sea
Zero
Nishu Mathur
James Michael Hail
Nagi
Angstorm
(Added by Sjr 1000)
Wardha
nagi
PoetryJournal
My Dystopia
Life's Jump
Bala
Nat Lipstad
Melissa
Ded Poet
Denel
Bex
Luiz Machado
(added by Jamadhi Verse)
Lora Lee
Wild is the Wind
Lalin
Akira Chen
R k
Onoma
Mydystopia
Stephanie
Stephan
Pradip :)
Karishna
(added by elizabeth j)
NB.
Lonely Soldier
Lily Mae
Thomas P Owens Sr
Sir WCA
Midnight Rain
Melissa S.
( added by Lori Jones McCaffery?
James
Kim Johanna Baker
Demonatachick
Elizabeth J
Yasaman Johari
Jean Lin
Lawrence Hall
Landon Miller
Chris Neilson
Pagan Paul
Sun Princess
Elizabeth Squires
Keith Wilson

take me on a journey there
and tell me what you see
I see trees of falling bark around
and shores of golden sea

I will take you on a journey here
through the hills of my Vermont
where the crystal waters
run so clear
and my ancestors still haunt

I see mountains tall and proud shimmering in a blue
I see fields of rolling shade
and some sleeping kangaroo

I see moths- the rarest kinds
and these birds of many feather
I see mountains verdant green
and this gorgeous summer weather

I fly with noisy lorikeet
and swim in coral reef
and walk 'twixt ancient eucalypt
to view the sandy beach

I land with Peregrine Falcon
and I soar with red tail hawk
I drift in summer breezes here
and with the animals
I talk

I walk through shady leafy glens
and I tread the reddened Earth
while I listen as the lybirds sing
to state my futile worth

I dream of sweet tomorrow's near
in the clouds of purest white
I hike in ferny glens here too
and fly a homemade kite

I stand beneath the winter here
in the clearest skies above
and I trace the stars my future now
in hopes I find true love

I stand in brilliant honey rays
in days of solstice long
I sing to love ~ oh far away
that he too hear my song

and hear I do,
a song from you
that skipped across the stars
your day-
my night,
we must take flight
beyond the Sun,
the moon and stars

out to the Milky Way
I'll come along with you
our maiden flight
in love and light
to find a love that's true


David Hewitt & Ma Cherie
© July 2017

The time will come of purest heart breaking in two, But alas will come your impending doom, The chimes of screams will be heard. Upon a bed of lieing earth. Forever forsaken will you ever be with chains of this wretched destiny. Call upon the skies on high. Pray to see another rise. For where thy lack a brain or two, Gods and Devils still come with you.

Written By: Taylor Nichole Hewitt

Moving ever slowly, its reach getting ever so closely. Breath gasping in halves. Hands shaking as you run in paths. Moving but never going. Creeping but never fully showing. Fear as you knowing this game is ever fully growing. No escape of sceneries change . And alas the predators advantage is at bay. Twisted realm with no control . A subconscious can be a unruly hole.

Written By: Taylor Nichole Hewitt

(their waiting to get warm..)

They lost the ignorance.
They took a shuttle
and burnt the witches
down down in Seattle:
made your own mother
a watery bad of waffle.

(How come are you
still drunk, Michael?)

Lana del Ray is singin'
in our backyard - and I
never felt so hard: close.

Up, up, up!
He's back!
She ain't never come-in' back!
She ain't never come-in' back!

Where's your apartment?
Where's your apartment?
How's Annie? How's *Annie?

And as we get undress
by the sparkling image
of a Jennifer-Love-Hewitt
randomly on our TV -
we too are turned on.

Turn the TV on.
Turn the TV on.

You smile, gal. You smile.
You smile and say Hi Daddy -
as I penetrate you with my gun.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

There you go, she said.
She always do.
Like she should.
Oh, oh, oh… Oh.

Cigarette puffs and
morning bluffs
all tied down to
some handcuffs
ugly girl's poem
petty little problem
on my handkerchief
on my lost soul of
slime, treachery and
fruit colored nails
and your own scuff -
who said you hurt?

Come. Come. Come again.

And as the elevator
lit itself up your thighs
you touch my lemon -
and you smile.


I finally transcended my sword
and I'm bound to an unlit world
as I spill my yogurt on your curves.

Now.. Why so insecurr??

Hey, I thought I would write something for all my followers.
I would like to start off by thanking Word Freak.
Word Freak was my first ever follower, he is the one who told me about this site.
Thank you to cgembry, the first person to like my work.
Thank you, Teresa Alaska the first person to comment on my work.
Thank you, Anna-Maria Rose Newell, you have given me a lot of inspiration.
Thank you, Walter W. H., David Hewitt, and Enslaved King you also have given me inspiration.
Thank you, Joellei for always being here when I need someone to talk to!
Thank you, Flames for a martyr, Toxic moon and Vicki.
Thank you, Woody, Stephen, and Keith Wilson.
Thank you, Bleeding Diamonds you make me smile and laugh.
Thank you, Jennifer DeAngelo for writing a poem about me.
Thank you, Eebi Jonson the first person I collaborated with.
Thank you, Kristy Renae Dalton.
Thank you,  John Stevens for raising your two beautiful grandchildren, I can tell they really love you.
Thank you, so much John Stevens for reading my work and giving me endless amounts of support.
Thank you to John Stevens wife also.
Thank you to all my followers each and every one of you are special to me.

A Touch Of Love
I sat there oblivious feeling empty and wondering who am I?
What am I doing, where am I going?
I searched for answers to my questions, but my mind was blank.
Leaving me desperate, sad, and without direction.
As the tears flow my eyes, the love crushing down,
And I felt no longer despair nor earthbound.

A light breeze blew upon my head, as I gazed at the flower bed.
A bold colorful ray of sunlight pushed against my soul
And its’ warm flow, like a stream of water ran from my head straight to my toe.
I knew that the love came crushing down.
For I no longer felt earth bound.

Joy processed me as never before, my spirit felt like it had soared.
Love had taken me to another plain; high above all earthly pleasures
To a place beyond all human measures, lifting my spirit, comforting my soul,
Caressing my body as it consoles.

Every limb of my body, every fiber of my soul went limp; as
I embraced the love that came from within.
Oh the sweet love that came crushing down,
Yes, God’s perfect love that left me spell bound.
_____________
C. L. Hewitt                           January 30, 2013

Never the less you'll never see The secrets of life that keep for me. Never the less you always do scuffly scorning my days and views. May it be my vengeance is swift, sharper then knifes and better then wit. Lifes come in all shapes and sizes but nothings better its all one sided.

Be it your strong I think your not, be it your lies I know your plot. Come face me now you impeccable fool cause no one knows how to truly duel. I come from the shadows Iv seen your pain, and from me you have but nothing to gain. Nothing to loose as I step forward, your shaking now but times not over. I know of the wickedest of ways and clearly you'll never see more days. Your scared you say? I laugh as I know your ways. Mr strong Mr be it not? You never even noticed to see my plot! Be it humans are small minded I got help from other sided . You looked but you could never see the damage was done what you did to me. You all laughed in all your wickedest of ways and destroyed young innocence in less then a day. But in the end who could be the victor it was alas this Sinister sister. For from the shadows they came offering to play a game. And who was I to turn them away. For no one could hear the crys I wept but demons and there Sinister bet. Come with us and you'll be free, Free from all this sanity. Leave this world you know behind. We can take you far beyond the other side. Let humanity die and take there place and you will have your own realm just without the pearly gates. Be our queen be are mother be are lover take no other. Your soul will not be touched for you where the one that came from dust. Dust and ash where all was dead She rose upon to take there bet. For where humanity was all one sided she became loved from the other sided. Be it there dead I know there wrong be it there lies Ill show them all. Whispers of anger can still be wept but Sinister sister still took the bet.


Written By: Taylor Nichole Hewitt

Forever will last the beautiful sight beyond my eyes. A place mortals fear and time is weak. Where never will the time will come. For what does one do in a world of suppose it shapes? Questionable fates? Alas these tears fall from beauty but thus a heart has wept .For truly there was never such a place as so .But where one has once been can never be .Were my eyes ever truly opened? Or was that just eternity?

Written By: Taylor Nichole Hewitt

I often rode my bike there
the closest store
in Nankin Mills, Michigan,
a staple for penny candy and
whiffle *****.

A  month into the summer me
and my best friend, Craig Hewitt,
who lived four doors down
mounted  our one-speed Schwinn's
and decided to pull our first heist.

The ride was a turn right then left around
a curve out to the four-lane Joy Road,
and we rode determinedly. Four blocks on the right
was the small shopping place
a grocery store and
a Ben Franklin's Five and Dime.

We hitched our Schwinn's in the bike rack,
located near the entrance and studied. Thought of possible quick escape routes.  Excitement flowed, I wanted a quarter piece of chocolate and Craig had his lust on a Matchbox car his unfeeling parents refused to purchase.

I checked my holster the Roy Rogers shiny six-shooter
was at the ready. We sauntered in. Walking tall but shaking in my pretend boots, which were actually Ked's.
My friend was so brave he barely looked nervous.
I followed his lead.

We were in there two minutes pocketed the loot and walked out sure we had made a clean escape. Our Schwinn's had barely moved when two arms grabbed us. "Hey boys!" We were apprehended.
We gave full confessions to the Principal looking
old lady interrogating us. They called our moms.

They let us go.Craig had wet his pants and I had squished
hell out of the chocolate candy. We left not wanting to go home.
Pondering what state might take two refugees with records.
I imagined walking the rails with a stick and a handkerchief
tied on its end full of my marbles a pair of socks
the remains of my Halloween candy in.

We went to a field near our school playground and fidgeted and talked and rued and scratched the dirt with the toes of our Ked's
and tried to think how we could explain or make an excuse or
go back a day. It was getting dark.  The night on the run was more scary to both of us than our moms.

When I entered the house there at 8587 Blackburn, a white brick
normal house, now so scary with danger pain foreboding out every window and door, it was my bravest act to this day, expecting screaming a scene a beating my mother towering over
asking "what were you thinking?"

Yet nothing happened. my oldest sister, 14 at the time sat grinning
on the couch watching tv. And Mom was in her apron by the stove like every other day. As I walked by my sister said "I was the mom today.
You owe me a kiss". I hated to but I nearly kissed her every day for a
week.

Craig got his *** whipped.

WHERE  ARE  YOU,  DAVID  HEWITT?

WE  MISS  YOUR  SENSITIVE  VIEW­  OF  THE  WORLD

AND  YOUR  ROLLICKING  SENSE  OF  HUMOR.

WHERE­  DID  YOU  GO?

                             please come back

please

                       come

                                                back

     ­                                                                 ­                                       ljm