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 Jul 2015 Clifford Smith
Chris
~

I wrote our initials in the sand
surrounded by a large heart
on a late summer afternoon
as the sun was setting,
then dove into a twilight ocean
waiting for the tide to come in
so that I could drown again
*deep within the love of us
Good night beautiful
Music, when soft voices die,
Vibrates in the memory—
Odours, when sweet violets sicken,
Live within the sense they quicken.

Rose leaves, when the rose is dead,
Are heaped for the beloved’s bed;
And so thy thoughts, when thou art gone,
Love itself shall slumber on.
You came as a sweet  surprise ,
Thoughts of you kept me up all night till I saw the sun  rise ,
I didn't see our end  coming ,
Thought we'd last because what we shared had no  timing ,
My heart is seriously  wounded ,
My soul feels out of place so  unwanted .
Like I'll never love  again ,
Oh my love,why did you have to betray me?you've placed on my mind such a huge  burdain .
One of my few love poems,trying out new stuff.
house.
dormitory.
lodge.
apartment.
duplex.
hotel.

all places to call home.

none of these feel like a home to me.

     my home is wherever you are.

your welcoming arms,
your loving touch,
and your greeting; a gentle forehead kiss;;

create a home.

My home is wherever you are.

Wherever you are to welcome me in, hold me tight, and kiss me gently.

Feeling safe is what creates a home, and you are my home.
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
It was many and many a year ago,
  In a kingdom by the sea,
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
  By the name of ANNABEL LEE;
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
  Than to love and be loved by me.

I was a child and she was a child,
  In this kingdom by the sea:
But we loved with a love that was more than love—
  I and my ANNABEL LEE;
With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven
  Coveted her and me.

And this was the reason that, long ago,
  In this kingdom by the sea,
A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling
  My beautiful ANNABEL LEE;
So that her highborn kinsmen came
  And bore her away from me,
To shut her up in a sepulchre
  In this kingdom by the sea.

The angels, not half so happy in heaven,
  Went envying her and me—
Yes!—that was the reason (as all men know,
  In this kingdom by the sea)
That the wind came out of the cloud by night,
  Chilling and killing my ANNABEL LEE.

But our love it was stronger by far than the love
  Of those who were older than we—
  Of many far wiser than we—
And neither the angels in heaven above,
  Nor the demons down under the sea,
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
  Of the beautiful ANNABEL LEE.

For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams
  Of the beautiful ANNABEL LEE;
And the stars never rise but I see the bright eyes
  Of the beautiful ANNABEL LEE;
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
Of my darling, my darling, my life and my bride,
  In her sepulchre there by the sea—
  In her tomb by the side of the sea.
I'm suicidal
I have thought about it not only once or twice but thrice
I'm suicidal
I have written hundreds, thousands and millions of letters
I'm suicidal
I'm a danger to myself
I'm suicidal
I see no fun in living.
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