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Midsummer midnight skies,
Midsummer midnight influences and airs,
The shining, sensitive silver of the sea
Touched with the strange-hued blazonings of dawn;
And all so solemnly still I seem to hear
The breathing of Life and Death,
The secular Accomplices,
Renewing the visible miracle of the world.

The wistful stars
Shine like good memories.  The young morning wind
Blows full of unforgotten hours
As over a region of roses.  Life and Death
Sound on--sound on . . . And the night magical,
Troubled yet comforting, thrills
As if the Enchanted Castle at the heart
Of the wood's dark wonderment
Swung wide his valves, and filled the dim sea-banks
With exquisite visitants:
Words fiery-hearted yet, dreams and desires
With living looks intolerable, regrets
Whose voice comes as the voice of an only child
Heard from the grave:  shapes of a Might-Have-Been--
Beautiful, miserable, distraught--
The Law no man may baffle denied and slew.

The spell-bound ships stand as at gaze
To let the marvel by.  The grey road glooms . . .
Glimmers . . . goes out . . . and there, O, there where it fades,
What grace, what glamour, what wild will,
Transfigure the shadows?  Whose,
Heart of my heart, Soul of my soul, but yours?

Ghosts--ghosts--the sapphirine air
Teems with them even to the gleaming ends
Of the wild day-spring!  Ghosts,
Everywhere--everywhere--till I and you
At last--dear love, at last!--
Are in the dreaming, even as Life and Death,
Twin-ministers of the unoriginal Will.
  Mar 2016 Allania Berkey
Rapunzoll
The sun forgave itself
long ago, for burning too bright,
it scorched our touching palms,
cheek to cheek, it burnt.*

That night we whispered
A song to the reeds,
Let it drift down that
Wayward line of memories,
Let it settle in the graves
Of each bed we slept in.

We let fate colour our
Hearts recklessly, like a
Child who can't stay
Within the confined lines
Of their drawing book.

Until the dawn began,
And we let our skin simmer,
Melting on each other's lips.
Until we are only skeletons
Embracing through a
World set in flames.
"This is the way the world ends.
Not with a bang but a whimper.' —T.S. Eliot

© copyright
Allania Berkey Mar 2016
The fear of rejection haunts my taunting soul
The eyes of god illuminate through the illusion of hope
Silence
Misery creeps among the stars
Honesty lingers mindlessly around the moon
Anxious
Reality twists and turns
Insecurity starts to flow
Outbursts and thoughts dance with one another
Thoughts travel
From the mind
Through the guileless heart
Midnight skies thunder in contemplation
Omitted while resigning from solitude
Lighting beams impressions
And strikes unforgettably
Remorse
Rose are quandary veiled in thorns
Glamorized secrets
Planted with tulips in the Spring
Vibrations spirit forth the branches of trees
Fog
Masks the anthropomorphic perception
Triggers instinct of intuition
Rationality halts, wills relish
The eyes of god forsake hope
Fear taunts thoughts
Rejection haunts souls
Misfortunes recollect the bitter anima
Lightly, the amity surrenders in the panicked streams of night
Soundly,
Charitably,
And Sincerely,
Tongue tied she scrupulously riveted
Across the room she neglectfully obscured the chair that supported his back
Togging on strands of denigrated comfort
Grains of sand that endless lay the shore
Mindless their eyes gravitated in contact
thirty seconds of encrypted reflections
Breathless laid rejection
She consigned to oblivion
Gathered by curiosity he sternly attends the strength
“What’s wrong?”
Admiration beams from the brims of his eyes
Grim of Frustration leak from her ****** expression
Hesitated
Continuously and distract she roamed away from him his thoughts
And admiration
Paralyzed by fear
Silence drives her composer
deeply and thoughtfully she inhaled
Breathlessly
— “A cup of coffee would sound nice, wouldn’t it?”
~    
        All the poems I write
     are
just the beginning
                              and end
               of every thought
   I've ever had about you.
Allania Berkey Mar 2016
I will internalize the words you say
I will memorize your lips and the way they fell perfectly in line with mine
I will hold you hand as an imprint on my heart
I will love you furiously and wildly like a melody grasped in music
I will do all of these things in outrageous outbursts
with honesty
With hope
And with the charitable idea of love
I will love you
Openly, honestly and heavily
I will open my mind and my ironic thoughts
I will
But in a twist of empty faith
You resigned from the will and charitable outburst found in music
The melody halted
As did our will
I will forever remember you
I will embrace the words you once said
I will remember the way your lips touched mine
I will remember your hand on my heart
I will endlessly and sadly remember the love
I will remember the song that always played in the back of your empty room
I will remember the thoughts that fired through my soul
I will always remember you-- *and I'll always remember our unexpected goodbye
Allania Berkey Mar 2016
Thoughts manifest into outbursts, while love transcends into lucid memories
awake by the unusual, while soundly and  Nourishly condemned asleep by distress
Remarkable beauty held hostage in the bricks and the mist of the darken night
Manfiestation devoures into desperation, While temptation rages a twist of faith outbursted in thought.
Manifesting hidden reality
Manifesting disgraceful truth
1:19 pm and my thoughts are still of you
Allania Berkey Mar 2016
The clock struck midnight
I was restless and thoughtful as could be
I noticed that I had been tossing and turning to a beat and rhythm that plunged above in the sky
It was a thunder-storm
bang, crash, thump
The sky illuminated in glory
Envy

The thunder roared and crashed in the middle of the night and the trees helplessly yearned for serenity
Ironic
It was calm earlier that day
Imagine
The breeze was right where it should have been and the sun was warmer than a hot skillet on a stove top
Peace
The sky was fostered in a pacific blue
And the clouds resembled dreams
Love
I remember it was 1:05 pm to be exact and I was feeling blissful
I decided to ride my bike through a quaint old town, two miles west of my house
Adventure
I stopped and stared at this little old man painting in the park
He was painting a tree, with pink, red, purple and gray
Odd
I couldn't help, but noticed how he was enticed by his surroundings
Interesting
I continued to bike away
It was now 2:45pm and I was feeling a bit famished
To the right of me stayed a cunning unforgettable coffee shop
I insisted to go in
Hesitation
Something about that coffee shop struck me that day, just like the little old man painting his introspection in the park
The room reeked in comfort and patience
Something I did not understand
Silence
Contemplatively, I bought a cup of coffee--black, I also companied that coffee with a blue berry scone--my favorite
I sat by the window to admire the sunlight and how the warmth cherished my skin
I sipped my coffee--startled
I noticed something peculiar about this coffee shop and this day
Instantly, I was left with an uneasy and unsettled feeling
Thoughtful
My black coffee was much more bitter than usual
It is as if the taste could not go down my throat
Something was wrong, I felt it
As I looked around the room everyone else was enjoying their cup of coffee
They also seemed to lack any hesitation
The tone in their voices create a harmonic rhythm in conversation
I noticed that every time they took a sip of their coffee they found it sweet, rather than bitter
I turned my head and looked out the window for a moment
Suddenly, I noticed that the sky was diminishing in its tints of blue
Wonder
I looked down at my watch
It was 3:35pm, I had to get home
I paid my bill and scurried onto my bike
Remember
The sky was calm throughout the entirety of the day
It was lovely and ideal--until it wasn't

No one expected a storm
No one expected disaster
But somehow, I did

I laid in bed that night waiting in anticipation
Waiting for my world to collide
Thunder and lighting seemed to have fought its way through the sky
Time
There wasn't enough
Concurrently, I felt bitter-- just like my cup of coffee in that cunning old shop
Ambiguity
I was left without answers
I was left without sugar and cream
creek, scratch, thump
The tree branch slid against the slide of my house
I noticed it all
It's starting
All the anticipation and anxiety I felt throughout the day was finally coming to its end or maybe to its start
The sky started to illuminate an illusion of sunlight
It was 11:30 pm and the day it almost to its end
I laid in bed thinking
I thought about my day and everything that it was missing
I notice it all
The little old man in the park painted a tree with a usual set of pigments, he defined ordinary, while sat alone comforted by the mere work of his creativity
The people in the coffee shop arrayed and encompassed patience, harmony and happiness
I was struck by discomfort because I unware of all those wonderful things
I knew all about the thunder and how it was provoked in the sky
I understood the lighting and its wish to shine
I thought of the beat and tempo that they would together make
Sometimes it was bitter, but sometimes it was sweet
I understood thunder and lighting
I understood why they danced viciously in the sky  
Finally, the clock struck midnight and it was now tomorrow
Fear
The storm was coming to its peak
The thunder fought its way with the lighting just as viciously written words floated on a piece of paper
The lighting struck back with ferocious and willful ambition
Relentless
The lighting held its ground, but didn't give up its hope
BANG
Memories
It was 1:05 am
The storm had reached its end
The thunder and lighting seemed to have parted their ways
Their fight was tortious
Nobody won, rather they both lost
It was 1:25 am
The rain had finally stopped
The trees have found their peace
It was 1:42 am
As I laid in bed, I thought about my day
I just want the storm to stop
Just like the the thunder and lightening, the little old man in the park and the people in that cunning old coffee shop, all have found their comfort and patience
The thunder and lightening have similarly found it in their bitter sweet good bye
It was wonderful
I noticed that as much as they fought throughout that darling midnight blue sky, they were attracted to their rhythm—A rhythm that was worth saving
The sweetness was found in their beat as they danced throughout the night
The thunder and lighting created a bittersweet combination
Just like the coffee I wish I would of had
A natural disaster that was intended to create a craze in the sky
The thunder wanted to be sweet, as did the lighting
Two peas in two different pods
Their negativity created the sweet appreciation of warm sunlight
I notice it all
The sun was the sweet
The day was calm
The thunder and lightening both knew it all too well
That night, the reminder of it anyways, I laid in bed and I knew that someday the storm would go away
It was 2:25 am and I finally shut my eyes
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