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  Oct 2015 Fluidtimes
If you think of me in the spring,
think of dogwood petals
in my hair, greener grass
and new beginnings.

If the summer solstice
finds you walking alone
in the garden of the moon,
remember that I'm somewhere
walking alone, too.

If you sing of me,
sing in the fall
in blue flannel and jeans
like the saddest song of all.

And if I pretend to die,
and you pretend to weep,
I promise to do it in the winter
when there are no flowers
to send in your pretended grief.
:)  Thanks for the inspiration.
There's woods outside of town aways
that I will not go near
There's tales of ghosts and monsters
And I don't like the things I hear

There's screeching noises unlike those
Any animal can make
Even in the daylight
Those woods just make me shake

I've heard tales of people who
Let their dogs out after dark
They come back, all scared and skittered
And they never ever bark

There's something in those woods I say
Strong magic is around
There's tales of children disappearing
Never to be found

Three years ago I walked on past
And I heard a noise....real close
I swore something was watching me
It may have been a ghost

On Halloween, the woods light up
With magic from within
No one dares to venture there
They'll not be seen again

Some nights when the moon is full
The noises fill the air
Of screeching, howling wild beasts
Of things covered in hair

I've only seen one bird around
The entrance to the wood
It's a single, lonely raven
And to me that isn't good

Raccoons, and skunks and squirrels
I never see them near this place
It's inhabited by demons
It's never known god's grace

The stories aren't the sort that
Make you want to see
What is in the woods that howls
I won't go in ...not me

The woods have always been there
And the stories have been too
I know the sounds scare me to death
And I'm sure, they'd scare you too

Don't venture near the woods at night
Don't go there in the day
Just leave them to their darkness
It's just best to stay away
Fluidtimes Oct 2015
I pretended to be asleep
when she shifted only three inches
and fell, gracefully,
on my shoulder.

She was her own
sleeping universe,
warm by my side.

I resisted reaching
out to brush the hair from her face
or to pull her
a little closer.

I knew
the warmth she gave off,
half sunken in my bed,
was not for me.

Had she even wanted
to surround me,
I knew

I couldn't steal the sheets off someone
who'd kept me
warm longer.
Fluidtimes Mar 2014
Sometimes I sit and
dream that the world is at my
timid fingertips.

— The End —