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Tender gardener of my life – Thee:
You tore out every clawing ****
of rooted thoughts that troubled me,
cast all aside, of them I had no need.

You nurture fresh and scented herbs
bouquet garni, green and sweet,
shelter those that wind disturbs,
tending all in clogs or naked feet.

With love, You water seeds you set,
symbols of loved ones  far and near,
nurtured close -  so to beget,
new life - remembrance ever dear.

Butterflies betimes alight,
birds drop in from flight
to water dip. Silk webs are spun.
Drink Thee deep the nectar of the sun.

Bask now inspired among this
garden’s  joy  in  rainbow’s sight,
revel long in all its blossom’s bliss.
But, veil them, lest they pale by night.

Relax, rest and spend more time,
‘neath shade of this thy balcony.
Watch,  where  nasturniums climb,
'neath its cooling, precious canopy.

I will  gift mystic seeds for thee to grow,
watch thee plant them lovingly in a row,
these our hopes: talismans of thine to me,
twinned with promises of mine, pledged unto thee.

Together: we will tend them,
watch and help them grow.

TOBIAS
Gandalf's Garden existed in London in the 1960s - 1970s It was a place of - not exclusively - Hippie, New Age and Flower Power  adherents. I tasted some of its varied delights.
I prayed earnestly to heaven:
I desperately needed to improve
my means of earthly  communication:
it took a long time to get through.
Then a voice boomed out of clouds:

"All our Deities are very busy -
you're call is important to us. Keep
on praying - we will get back to you."


Tobias
Waiter? There is a hair
in my soup - right there!
Take it back to the Chef.
I demand an explanation!
               ------
Sorry Sir! The Chef sends
a replacement in amends,
though it is not his habit,
it wasn't hare but rabbit.

Tobias

Do you remember
in the midst of December
over burnt down wood and ember
reminding you of distant warm memories
of a long gone September

Say, do you recall
the great and foreseen fall
the big curtain call
the end of it all

Did you feel cold
when the life you knew came to a halt
nothing made sense anymore
of what you've been told before

You thought of dying
by your own hands, no denying
til this new found will to live
now there was nothing left to forgive

Takes you back to the roots
proudly walking in those boots
Living off the land
bow in hand

Teaches you anew to be in awe
able to see the beauty of nature once more
shows you its forces and how it can make everything break
how it doesn't need your approval, how it can give and take

And you remember it now
as you saw yourself hanging of this bough
You asked for this
"give me a quiet apocalypse"
Inspired by a beautiful game called The Long Dark in which you wander a post apocalyptic world and live with and fight against nature. No zombies, no magic. Just you, nature and its forces. I always loved the idea of having to go back to the roots like this. An escape from today's disconnected life. Nature is but an echo. Take me back.
When this darkness
Comes over me
It takes me to
A lonely place where
I'm in a full room
Standing all alone
No empty seats
Barely walking space
No familiar face
No family to call home
No heart full of love
No one to belong to
Tricking for affections
All strays can do is roam...
I think my love button is broken...

Someone came along,
Ripped it out of place,
Turned it around, upside down
Snapped off my "give a ****",
And shoved it back where they found it.

Now sparks fly...
And not the good kind.
Now crackles, and pops, and buzzing
Wreak through the torn seams

Yeah,
Pretty sure the **** thing
Is ****** up sideways.

I think my love button is broken...
She thought she had
gone deaf to the
sound of the
hissing flames that
guided her path, then
suddenly...



God shouted.
Loving you was a winter full of summer, and a pocket full of purple wildflowers.

Your smile was a warm breeze in late October, and your touch, the cool grass on bare feet.

Your kiss was the taste of raindrops on a July afternoon, and your voice the water that smooths the river rock.

You were childhood without the sting of the bee.

~B. Elizabeth G.
As I lay down in the soaked grass,
The mud squishing into every crevice and nook,
I imagine myself melting.

Like leftover snow in early spring,
When the first showers come and erase the remains of winter.

I am the winter.
The rain dissolves me with every drop,
Until I am nothing but an element
Absorbed by the earth.

And the world forgets I was ever here...
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