Look out of any window,
an you might not see the sun,
you might just crave dear warmpth,
when each day is fine'ly  done,

From those rays that shine above us,
now a written sky in prose,
look out of any window though,
you might not see a rose,

Though the daylight should still show,
a glimmer through the dark,
to fade through even darkest clouds,
just a tiny bit of spark,

Offers in minute increments of hope.

Ma Cherie © 2017

I remember being 5 years into this life of mine, one yet unfinished; and my big sister had a little friend. Her little friend brought into our little house a little keyboard. Our little house for our big family that we lived in for a little while, which had never contained within its walls a musical instrument of any kind or any size, until that day. The day that that little friend of my big sister brought in, her board of keys. I was fascinated with it immediately, but me being the youngest, I had to not so patiently wait my turn as each of my siblings toyed with the instrument of my fancy with horrid cacophonies coming from the holed up speaker beneath holes placed there for sound passage. I was a quiet mouse of a lad back then, but I wanted to scream at my lung tops, " For the love of all that is sacred! can you cease hitting those thingies little friend of big sister calls keys?" I was patient in those days of youth, but I have always been annoyed by clangor and repetition. Finally, after all others, I got my chance to have my hand on those plastic keys which beckoned me from the moment I saw them. Finally, I would discover something about myself,  I did not yet know it, because I hadn't yet cracked my fingers nor stretched them as per the instructions of the little friend of my big sister. So I did so. I was ready. I was excited. I had no idea what a chord was! So, I hit one key that simply called my name with vibes. I hit that key. I recognized it! So I tried to mimic the song I recognized it from. It was a song that had just been playing on the radio earlier. I pressed another key which seemed logically the next progression to match sonically the song which had been playing earlier. When I had finished hitting the keys I had seemingly subconsciously selected, I had played the intro and main section of the popular at that time song "Lean On Me" without one mistake. The big father of the little friend of my big sister said, "You have perfect pitch hearing, that is a rare gift!" My family gave me three cheers... and I walked into a corner like I had done something wrong. I felt filled with Joy and empty inside at the same time. I felt guilty because the little friend of my big sister who had the big father, looked down at the floor with tears in her eyes... she said, "Daddy, I have taken lessons for years and have played much more difficult pieces than he did, and you never showed that kind of pride in me." I never touched another instrument until 13 or 14 years into this life of mine, one yet unfinished -and I pray that little friend with a big clueless father gained the attention she deserved more than I.

Many Winters they have passed,
since you departed from this place,
many years and many tears,
to leave their mark upon my face,
you always had a lovely smile,
a shining bit of grace,

Cooking in the kitchen,
just cooking fear away,
I really wished I'd learned from you,
that you had chose to stay,
we couldn't know the sun,
just wouldn't rise that day,

The pumpkin seeds and love,
you cooked up tasted good,
and you created beauty,
like no other person could,
and you loved every person,
like we all already should,

Don't know how,
I'm just like you now,
I'm sure you think so too,
I share in all our time,
what I believe is true,
the sky is ever changing,
in it's lovely shaded blue,
Cerulean is a favorite,
of her painted sky in view,

So keep an eye on the horizon,
keep a hand to guard the Sun,
rest you in the evening hours,
when a grateful day is done,
even if we die,
our battle clearly won,

So I drink my wine at night,
and I celebrate to live,
I'm thankful for what I have,
and for in what I can give,

A little bit of you,
and the others I have known,
you are all a part of me,
  from the kindness I was shown,
from a tiny budding seed,
what a lovely thing has grown,

For I now have the seekers heart,
a seed from those before,
handed down in kindness rare,
an told in times of yore,

Learning in my life,
to end it all with sage,
so careful take it down,
to write on every page,
to ever have your back,
if war should ever rage,

I will share in what I know,
I give with words and hands,
I will tell the galaxy,
of the universe's plans,

And love will finally find a way.

Cherie Nolan © 2017

Beautiful sunrise beautiful day,
I long to see your eye,
beautiful sunset and beautiful night,
I wish to stop the cry,

Beautiful moment- beautiful memory,
stay within the now,
beautiful sun- beautiful life,
a gift to show us how,

Beautiful birth- beautiful pain,
and all time in between,
beautiful death and beautiful truth,
our spirit new and clean,

Every day a lovely chance,
for beautiful you - beautiful me,
tell in words of a hearts dance,
make for the beautiful we,

Beautiful time- beautiful gift,
days are always numbered,
beautiful rays - beautiful lift,
we live on unencumbered,

A beautiful mind, a beautiful home
make for domestic bliss,
beautiful woman - beautiful man,
locked in eternal kiss -

I'm yours and you are mine,
  
As our lives,
are always,
inextricability,
intertwined.

Ma Cherie © 2017

Many moons,
have passed over my headpiece,
as you leave me behind,
in moondust & ashes each night,

You collect on the bookshelves,
I keep here,
collecting on hearts with your light,
dusting my world with your beauty,
diminutives in bits of the white,

This is not the end of the journey,
 this a mere tiny part of the flight,
and I've not seen any more shiny,
or any star nearly as bright,

Though I am unable to see you now,
or touch your skin ever again,
or truly hear you with my ear,
I still miss you so my friend,

I know I cannot be near you now,
I cannot be where you are,
as you are but a twinkling light,
a brilliant & distant, star-

If it was not but for the moon dust,
my heart wouldn't,
be able to see you anymore either.

Ma Cherie © 2017

I wish I was his cigarette,
Have him breathe me in so deeply
Wrap his lovely lips around me
Set fire to me, And
Burn
Slowly for him
To be the thing he holds
In his artful hand
Oh, what a lucky thing
That cigarette