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 May 2018 Lyda M
Spencer Smith
Her favorite color was yellow,
She said it was perfectly mellow,
When we went to the meadow,
She picked them and put them in her hair, streaming out the window.

My favorite color is red.
It burns with a ferocity that fills my head.
It buzzes in my mind, even when I lay down in bed.
It puts a pop anywhere, even in the mead.

Together we made orange, vibrant as the sunset.
We held our hands to the sky our eyes gleaming and wet.
Because we knew all good things come to an end.
We memorized each other because we didn't want to reach a bend,

Where we would part forever.
I stare at the sunset over the river,
We used to love with fervor,
But now my arm feels emptier,

Not holding you beside me.
I stare at the sunset, feeling bleak.
I think of when I had you by me.
I miss you so much it drowns me like the sea.

I take a deep breath and let go.
I can't hold onto your yellow.
I let it flow into the air, it turns my mood even more mellow.
I kiss the daisy in my hand goodbye and let you go.
 May 2018 Lyda M
never trust a poet's words
they sound sweet at first
but you'll notice the emotion in their words
it all sounds too...
"i love you like the sea loves the shore"
becomes too scripted
you hear the small tinge of love actually left in their voice
hoping it could mean something
but it doesn't
it never does
it's just the way they say it
one day, after they have left
you will find their poems, and they will be the exact words that they had said to you
once long ago
please understand this poem is in a way just me talking to myself, reminding me to not trust a man who i once loved, thank you
 May 2018 Lyda M
 May 2018 Lyda M
Be the change you want to see
Try not to judge, let others be
The rain will stop, the storm shall pass
Pleasure is pleasing and love can last

Set up for sorrow, it's hard to see
Open your eyes, switch off your tv
Put down the remote and venture outside
Get out in to nature where healing resides

Turn off your phone, log off the net
You'll be surprised with the solace you get
Write a poem, cook a nice meal
Declare your love, see how it feels

Put away the plastic, stop doing your hair
Go back to basics, even though it's rare
Laugh at your troubles, hug it out
Why are you frowning, what's that all about
A sign of the times, the information age
Escape from the trap, break out of your cage

Tell me now, how do you feel
Please keep it up, do we have a deal
Memories last but gadgets do not
Live your life fully, run from the rot
 May 2018 Lyda M
Jackie Mead
I'm not in a rush to leave this place.
I'm in no hurry, it's not a race.

I'd like to take it real slow.
So many stunning  places to go.

I want to travel far and wide.
See much more of the English countryside.

Beautiful beaches that surround us in Cornwall and Devon, remind us we live  in our own corner of Heaven.

Mystical places with tales of legends to tell.
So much to do and see, I'll do my best to make it sell.

Tintagel such a mystic place, where legend has it King Arthur had his chair.
He had a roundtable it held many Knights, all ready to defend, always ready for a fight.

In York a Viking museum to tell how they came upon our shores, with longboats, a 60 man crew, paddled with their oars.

Bath has the best Roman baths to be found, laze and spoil yourself in the steam rooms built in Roman surrounds.

In Wales, there's Snowdonia for you to climb, or the less active can take a train ride.
A castle in Caernarfon where Princes are appointed by H M The Queen, the sword on the shoulder duly declares arise HRH Prince of Wales, the crowd are waiting for the new Prince to be seen.

In Scotland there's Edinburgh with a castle tall and round sits atop a very high mound.
The lowlands and the Highlands are a sight of well known beauty, driving around the lochs at night keep your eyes open for a monstrous sight, nessie fact or fiction,

Of course there are the lakes of England too, Windermere the largest draws the biggest crowd. Find a cottage out of sight, snuggle up with a loved one, cuddle tight.
Put on your water skis, hire a boat, sail your wind surfing board, fire up your jet ski any of these activities can be fun and available to be done, daily.

The Cotswolds, for take your breath away beauty, small villages, luscious village greens, cricket playing in the field, Large Houses, Lord of the Manors, old worldly pubs, thatched pubs and rivers waiting to be seen.

There are Dartmoor, Bodmin Moor and Exmoor too, Peak District, Lake District mountain ranges, many a zoo.

I'm not in a rush to leave this place.
I'm in no hurry, it's not a race.

I'd like to take it real slow.
So many stunning  places to go.

So much to do, so much to see.
On your doorstep, no need to stray.
Whatever you do, wherever you go, have a happy holiday.
The sun is out, its a beautiful day and no other place I would rather be   I hope you enjoy and it doesn't sound too much like a travel board announcement.
 May 2018 Lyda M
Marisa Lu Makil
As a child of God
Will never be easy
Or simple

Will be dark nights when
It seems that the sun
Will never shine again

Will be hours of
Bitter weeping where
You wonder

You could ever
Make it out alive
And intact

Will close in and
Lightning will strike and
Rain will fall

Like an arrow
Will shoot hard and fast
Into your chest

Will wonder if
God was ever at
Your side

When the clouds pass
And at long last the
Rain drips away

A brighter morn
Will spread it's wings
Against the stormy sky

Gently push the
Shivering rain

The rainbow of
God's greatest promise
Will fall again

Is then, dearest angel
That you will forget
It was ever night

Like the arms of
A great beloved
Will enfold you

Of pearl will open
To greet you

Daring knight
Of the prince
Bidding you enter

And oh
How your heart
Will leap into

All the darkness
And the shrowd
Of older days

Run into the arms
Of a Savior
Who would never
Leave you helpless
"And He who testifies to these things says'yes I am coming quickly.' amen, come, LORD Jesus." -Revelation 22:20
 May 2018 Lyda M
Veronica Emilia
i have anxiety

sometimes it feels like my head is stuffed with crumpled ***** of paper: the things I never said, the things I should have never said, the things that someone never said to me.

all of these things are written on every piece of paper
there are so many right now that no more would be able to fit
yet i can't stop thinking things, i can't stop saying stupid things, i can't stop wishing things.

i sigh I reach up to my forehead and i grasp my bangs
with my shaky hands and pull

i'm hoping one day when i do this
the top of my head will yank open
all of these crumpled pieces of thoughts
will pour out in a pile
on the floor
i will kneel down
and uncrumple each and every piece
i will read each one
until my head fills up again.
 May 2018 Lyda M
Heart of Silver
Close your eyes

Your world, not extending
beyond the soft quilt under
your skin, unending

Soft ripples of cloth, and picturesque seams
Nothing here but
You, me, the sky, and soft dreams

I'll reach up and take the stars from the sky
If only to lay them at your feet
to place them in your hands
to bring light into those glazed eyes
or give a glow to a world so bland

and each one would be folded
into a beautiful origami castle
I, the lord, and you, the vassal
Or perhaps me as the king
and you as a queen, whichever
My gentle playmate.. which one is better?

I'm a majestic creature of the sky
You're an empty-faced child on a quilt
Each star shall be used as a stepping stone
so I might meet you in the place I built

Let us meet, as lovers, or
at least equals
on this starry floor
And your body falls into each soft fold
It's here, right here, that I can hold
you close, keep you safe and warm
so you, from the rest of the world
I'll withhold

Consider this a "romantic poem".. but not about me! Actually, this is a story I've sort of written. :)

Hmm, let me try to describe it. A little girl living in a world all her own, a world that's nothing more than an empty quilt with an endless sky. Above her, lives a sort of "sky-creature" and he happens to be in love with her, so he builds her a castle of stars.
 Apr 2018 Lyda M
Eyes of brown
 Apr 2018 Lyda M
Most don't want brown eyes
Instead they want blue like the sky
Or maybe its the green of a jade fly

I see them for the beauty they hold
Visualizing coffee and a day so cold
Or riding a horse whose stride is bold
In the end it's brown eyes with a story untold
 Apr 2018 Lyda M
He's a puzzle that can't be solved
He's a dream that can't be real
He's a favourite kind of hello
He's a wound that just won't heal

He's a mystery found in a lie
He's a voice when you are mute
He's a fire with no bright flames
He's a giant and I'm minute.

He's never going to settle
He's the opposite of what he says
Plays his games with bold strategy
He'll hurt me in so many ways.

And even though I love him,
I've gave him all my time,
I'm fighting for a person,
Who I know will never be mine.

We're almost touching.
we were walking side by side,
you're talking about cabs in your hometown.
I can feel the gravity of your hand, calling my fingers
whispering "it's alright."

We're touching but not quite.
you held my shoulder to protect me from the passing cars.
and for the first time in a long while, I felt so fragile.
In this world where I find it hard even to breathe,
you believed me.

I almost said it.
All I need is one ounce of strength to tell you every single thing that I have ever felt about you.

I want to find home in your collarbones.
Would you be kind enough to let a stranger in?
I want to seep in your being because I'm cold.
The world is harsh and my cracks are aching.

Please don't ever become a stranger,
whose laugh I can recognize anywhere.
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