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You told me stories
But never lies
You painted the tapestry
Of my mind
Rocking me to sleep in sunshine
Waking me up to see the moon bright
Look my love, look at it
Its a beaming lumen
Just like you
I smiled ever so lovely
Trying to match your face with mine
Hold me in your arms again
Like the paint that clings to art
Don't let me go
Please, dont let go
You changed my world
With your colors
Now I see what it all means
Photo prompt was a hand painted wooden rocking chair with dark blue sky and yellow sunflowers
Mrs Timetable Jul 28
See me in the shadows
My beauty is hidden
I know you can see it
Because you know me
You know my heart
Knowing what I need
Off your nectar
I feed
butterfly
Mrs Timetable Jun 21
I imagined the scent of you
To be what love smells like
To be what kindness bubbles with
To be a beautiful spicy soft aroma
With the strength of leather
Smooth yet unbreakable
Inhale...
If only I could bottle you
And spray you on me
When I need it
  Jun 15 Mrs Timetable
Cazzie
There were nights I folded into myself
A silence not of peace, but pause,
Where memory clung like sweat to old Regrets,
And the dark was just thick enough to Speak.
A younger version of me still walks there,
Half-shouting at ghosts,
Half-sure he knows better.

The road I paved was not always stone…
Sometimes glass,
Sometimes the brittle hush of unspoken Apologies.
My hands, calloused from more than labor,
Have carried the sharp edges of Consequence,
Have held a child’s future like a fragile flame
And nearly dropped it once or twice.

Fatherhood did not come with a compass.
It came like weather,
Sudden and vast;
With no promise of shelter, only sky.
And still, I stepped out.
Still, I walked.

There were questions I answered with my Absence,
Lessons I taught by stumbling.
And yet each tear I have dried
Has felt like redemption.
Each scraped knee, a liturgy
In the cathedral of trying again.

You learn that love,
Real love,
Isn’t found in the perfection of the path
But in turning back for the small hand that Trusts you still.

Now, she laughs.
And in her laughter is a map
Of every right thing I did
Despite myself.

And I know,
No matter how far I wandered from grace,
It was worth it.
Not for a second chance,
But for the first time I truly listened
To what love sounds like
When it calls you “Dad.”
  Jun 15 Mrs Timetable
Cazzie
There are times where I’m not myself.
I walk and stroll the passerby’s
With foreign eyes
To see if they can tell.
I am a lie of omission.
Not quite the truth.
A bit of a straight arrow,
With flavorings of the uncouth.
I’m not healthy for you,  
(nor would I want to be.)
I am unattainable,
I am fiction,
I am fable.
I am no one, nobody, nadie, Nemo.
I'll be the flower in your garden
Golden mustard yellow ones
So rich. warm and soft
Like the sun with a blanket on

Nature is a gift.
I saw a pretty picture
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