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A single lonely Sparrow cries.

He will never be back
from infinity .
Apprenticeshipped in the
guild of disaster.
He slipped through the mist
and into the darkness .

The intensity of dreams
the banditry of ideals
The insane factory of
covert conclusions.
Fragments of wisdom .
Music lost in a
time continuum.
It should have been his
time to judge the fury
of the wildflowers in a storm .
Unnerved by silence
I watch from a house
without words .

An innocent, cruelty
struck by fate .
He was a friend
of Dorothy’s
and a friend of mine .
He will never see the rainbow
from the inside out .

A sensitive man
draws ire .
He was where the butterflies
and the Angels come
to be born .

He lived from the inside out .

Comfort in remorse .
Torment in conscience.
Regret in waves of
aching emotions.
I cry for atonement
and a salve
for my soul .

That mysterious light
that came from him .
Also came me and from
everywhere and everything.
But , I just could not see ,
Inside out !
WL Schuett Sep 11
Window shades half open
a warm summer breeze.
Soft conversations
drifting up from the street.

Smoke from a candle
feather pillows
and lace .

Spiced wine , red apples,
cool satin sheets.
The touch of lace on
sweet hidden delights.

Deep velvet music
soft , soulful and blue .
Cool beads of sweat
like mornings first dew.

Sleepy dreams fade
from a deep sated sleep .
As morning creeps in
through the window
like a thief.
WL Schuett Aug 29
The trail ahead was stacked
high with thunderclouds
that never came their way .

They rode the ridge where
the flowers faded.
Where it did not matter
that they knew no names .

They built a fire
under the Milkyway
by an avenue of quiet trees .

When she laughed
the dancing flames
were trapped in her eyes
and from behind she heard
him smile.

Lost on the borders of heaven .
A quickening of the moonlight .
The limitless depth of color .
Her hot breath on his face .

After a while
she slept in his arms .

Two people who met too late .
Maybe years ago under
a thinner moon
and a wider meadow.
The flowers would not
have had to fade .

Doubt settled heavily
but , no shame .
Certainly no shame
only a false rainbow.

He wrote with a layer
of words underneath
the words that only
she would understand.

She can listen to forever
relative to the quicksand
of the Cosmos.
Born through time
into infinities energy .

A second truth to the wind .
WL Schuett Aug 20
She is a hive full of
But , never far from
the sting .

“I see you “ she smiles
as she touches my face .

Upstairs she lies
with coverlets and curtains.

I am searching
and searching.
But , for what
I’m not sure .

Maybe diamonds
but probably
Fireflies and Lace .

Working towards not
losing my shadow.

My inertia’s held
to her beauty
my moral vision
called and questioned.
The death of leaves ,
stranded on the high wire
in the back of beyond.
WL Schuett Jul 12
A prisoner of memories
locked in the shallows
of the past .
A true dissenter of the war
on my conscience education.
A burning freight car
keeps haunting my dreams.

A spyglass
destiny of fire .
More energy spent
unlearning than learning.
Living life toiling
in enemy territory.

Sweetly decadent this
flesh and blood woman .
Feminine as lace
lyrical and ferocious,
exquisite and dangerous.
Unintended consequences of
the violence of religion,
a famine of spirituality.
The terrible separation of faith.

The poet ablaze
with the poetry of fire.

The laurel has withered
in the talons of the dove .
The sun rose as they danced
over the renegade landscape.
Nine stones surrounding
the olive branch that’s broken.

Confessions of evil,
lightning and lace .
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