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Landing at Belfast International Airport always made Byron feel better, but nowhere near the way he used to feel when Megan was alive. He was glad for the busy workload ahead of him, a very welcome distraction.
The latest nightmare revealed more to him than usual, which, according to his phsychiatrist, was a good thing. Climbing into a  cab, Byron opened his laptop and immediately noticed the little envelope at the top of the screen. Messages from the site. Beautiful Words was a luxury, especially since adding his new friend, pen name Maiden, real name, Holly.
Byron could be a normal person on the site, no disfigurements, no judgement, and nobody would ever know about the fire, his failure to save his Megan.Of course, people could read between the lines but that was unlikely.
The message from Holly read "Dearest Phantom, i was so moved by your latest poem..." It went on to state her amazement at Byrons last name, Lorde. " is it really true? so, your name is lord Byron in reverse?" Byron felt a little flutter of excitement at the thought of someone noticing his name, for the first time,.
Byrons mother was a lover of poetry, especially romantic poets, hence his name.The opportunity was irresistable , her name being Lorde.Megans grandfather would poke fun at Byron, saying he was lucky his mother didn't like Edgar Allen Poe.
He almost replied immediately but noticed he'd reached his destination, shutting the laptop, promising himself to pay more attention to beautiful Words, Holly, Jester,  and the rest of the crowd.
Byrons shrink was moonlighting at the local hospital, community work made him feel more human, less robot-like."Well well well," Byron and jake were friends from way back, even before Megan.After the fire,Byron would surely have given up, had it not been for Jake.He poured them both a mineral water while Byron made himself comfy, he knew the drill. The age old cliche, lay down on the couch, close your eyes, "Count backwards from 10, slowly drifting off the closer you get to 1,".
Byron could smell the smoke, taste the charcoal at the back of his throat. He could see her, more clearly than before....
(c) chris smith/eileen mcgreevy  2011
1,000 years have passed and gone.
Seasons have turned.
Civilizations, have been wiped out.
Generations, have seen their share of life.

There is one helpless soul.
Which even Sleeps' cousin doesn't smile upon.
With each breath life left him.
The Prisoner, still perched on the wall after 1,000 years.

He rose his head the slightest.
Stared pass the iron bars that caged him.
Into the hallway.
The candles still burned.

Fog started to drift towards his cage.
It rose 6 feet into the air.
The smell of sulfur filled his cage.
The fog shaped itself as a door, she walked out.

A golden eyed beauty stepped forth.
In a all black dress, with golden trims.
"He comes this eve."
A smile etched across his face.
#3 Ties in The Stranger.
I adore the seasonal harvest
To our eyes it makes a feast
The sun rays make the golden corn
A delightful and lovely morn

The corn bends with the grain
In a soft flowing breeze and rain
And looks like a beautiful woman with  gold ear rings
My heart and soul naturally and delightfully sings

After the harvest women carry the mounds on their head
Like the angels in heaven beautifully and gracefully tread
When the corn is thrashed to the floors
It looks like a heap of golden pearls
What a joy to be a farmer!
And to behold nature’s graceful corner!
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