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I guess
I'll go back to poetry
now that
the real thing is ending

It's hard to lose touch
when you finally found it
hard to imagine
being content
staring at computer eyes
and typing can never
replace her flesh and blood hand

yet the reality is we must part after meeting
so brief the moment
so unsweet the parting
I may write a poem full of tears
I may tear this **** keyboard apart

trying to make it all real once more
her feel her heart her love for me.
A photo now
Hung on the wall
When
She for so long
Was my love and
Companion
She adopted me
Way back when
I showed up here alone
And so she followed
To be the smile I returned
To every day.
We were both orphans,
There was nobody to confide in
Or to care for and so destiny
Intervened,
Making a pair out of two
Lost souls.
Someone said without a family
You're nobody. I think
It might have been me.
She was my family.
She made me whole with her
Howling at sirens and her eyes
How they shone
Looking up at me,  missy taught me to love and I did.
She loved perfectly.
I believe it was destined. Her
Love was unconditional.
She gently gave me signs it was time for her to go.
And peacefully as she slept
She left.
As hard as I loved her, it is harder to lose her.
Now, she is on my wall
Looking down.
And in my heart, forever.
I'll always love you,
My Missy.
When upon the day came
A voice so
Make believe my fairy queen
My reality
My every dream sang
Like birds wings lifting
Me higher than anything ever could
Or did on the air rang
My forever heartstrings plucked
From Angel's hair her wings
The only thing
I remember being hers
Into every night hence as though
Heaven was here
Amidst the night air catching stars
In my hands touching
Life began,
Then
It is
of the earth's  way
a scale
balancing sunshine
with rain,

As a flower shares
the soil with a dandelion-
air with the ocean,
mountains and plains.

And the seasons turn
from spring into summer
then leaves fall
Soon, it snows.

And all are God's creations
the mighty to the small.
And how everything....
a thought to a heartbeat
a pups welp
to a trumpets sonorous
blast
in mountains
and valleys
echoes

sighs

Dust to dust and no stopping
reality or favors from Fairies,
no rest for the weary.
In the end going
back to beginnings,
is the way
All stardust
is created.
Provident the essential beauty of a long sip of her in the moonlight
Drink I did and fell head over heels
In elemental drunken eye splendor
Eyelids flicker, close again.
Then slowly part allowing focus.
The morning welcomes sleepy eyes
and a window beckons.
Light streams through
and the view is of Spring.

The sun up in the sky
brilliant and ablaze with life.
From one horizon to another
clear blue light hangs,
lazily draping the world
and not a vapour trail in sight.

Silence is no longer a pause
between bursts of open noise,
rather, noise is an intruder
hectoring the moments of peace.
Until the sleep dirt clears
and the chorus of birds singing
is in harmony with serenity,
complimenting the absence of sound.

Different light in hidden places
shine a hue of emerald green,
flecked with orange and yellow,
single rays of playful sunshine.
The streams of brilliance persist
like the radiance of a palette,
if the painter is Mother Nature
and the picture is crystal clear.

And sleep though only minutes gone
is a forgotten rest memory.
The dreams faded and passed on,
given free, as a gift to the night.


© Pagan Paul (25/03/20)
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