The smell infectious, always around
The color of chocolate, the softest brown
The sound of laughter, people abound
The talks of wisdom, always profound

I love you coffee, an ode to you!
From hot espressos to weak cold brews

The light lingers not,
Amber hues of autumn fade;
Winter encroaches.

One day
you will rise  from the ashes
and be the morning
in this darkening sky,
and I
will be waiting
to greet that glorious
sunrise.

8:09 PM

I dream nightly
of the sky,
of being lifted
above the blue.

I pass a film of
dewy clouds, sit atop
a satellite.
The world is
a blue swirl
and I'd rather watch
from the moon.

I am still the creature
that cannot give itself a name,
I am not golden allure,
nor a lady for your arm.
I am the one rocking by a fireside
waiting for your return.

I am the rain tapping at your
window,
dripping in your garden,

making your flowers grow.

Most days you walk past,
pick the lilac and the tube-rose,
and flick me off the petals.
I remember watering
your desert hands on a
sweltering day,

you did not shake me off then.

I will come again,
and you will hear me shiver
against the window’s side,
and perhaps you will let me in
a second time.

My heart drops deep down in my stomach
I hear the news and I collapse
The damage is done and there's no turning back
But now our lives are on the right track
We embark on a new journey and restart our lives
All things so precious went right before our eyes
We build a new staircase and walk to the top
We all have eachother so nothing much was lost.

I wrote this 6 years ago when my family’s house was destroyed by fire. This was one of my first real poems I wrote.
 Dec 2017 Mysidian Bard
17morae

death and dishonor
are the only compass points
on this battlefield

Have you ever wondered
As to whom
Does a leaf
Really belong to?

Does it belong to the tree
That although gives it life
Disowns it when it needs
A support the most?

Does it belong to the wind
That carries it in its arms
To a beautiful foreign land
Until it can no longer take its weight?

Does it belong to the land
Which caters for the unknown
But eats it away as it decays
And becomes part of a new life?

It belongs to the journey
Merely named by its progenitor
From the time it appears
Till the moment it perishes.

Blanketing the moon
On this cold December night
Clouds fall to sleep

:inspired by the moon in recent days :)
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