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A quiet park, all alone,
Sitting on my swinging throne.

Back and forth, upward I fly,
Into the beautiful, cloudless sky.

Soaring, smiling, wind in my face;
Just me and swing in a peaceful place.
At least there's peace here if nowhere else
little half grown girl
has no company to play with
no pets or toys
lives by her wit again

begins the day by
kicking pebbles along the path
no direction
just any which way to

fro off the side
counting their bounces as they go
down to the grass
off the path they are now

nothing better
to count on mom numb dad long gone
frowns seem as sad
as pebbles do when kicked
I wonder what he hides
behind those smiling lies
and the warm creeping blush
that shades his eyes

I wonder if he knows
that I can see

I wonder what he sees
when he looks at me
the flushed cheeks
and hesitant goodbyes
quivering lips
from wasted lies

I wonder what he sees*

© Priya Patel, 1/29/16

The face is the mirror of the mind, and eyes without speaking confess the secrets of the heart.
~ St. Jerome
 Feb 2017 Liz And Lilacs
Traveler
And on to thee I ask
Could you worship me
If I were a burning bush
And not just any deity

Before a flood can drown your mind
Before a wrath can end all time
Would you take a knee

If I were washed in putrid muck
To set your spirit free
If I could give you meaning
A reason just to be
If I were nicknamed Wisdom
Or King of all the Kings
Would you bow down holy
And come and join my team

Would you believe in me
If I came to you in a dream
Walking on the surface
Of a clear running stream
Or if I were but a Star
Who fell from heaven
To where you are...
Would you at least
Come sit by my fire
No need to bow down
   Unless you desire...
Traveler Tim
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