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Mary-Eliz Jun 2018
I am a Part to Full Shade flower
I can only be in Full Sun for brief times
else my petals will burn and shrivel
my roots turn dry, thirsty in hot climes

When I'm too long in the sun
protective spots appear, speckles
or you may call them freckles
Angel kisses so say some

I envy Full Sun blossoms as they
smile and glow in summer's light
flourishing in their sunny patches as I seek
a full-leafed tree where it's not so awfully bright

Ah! In the shade, I like it here
No need to cover up
So here I'll stay and happy be
Just please don't cut down my tree
Mary-Eliz Jun 2018
the sun descends lower
spreading
a cerise and tangerine haze

across lilac clouds,
while a pink blush of stillness
diffuses
across earth and heaven
creating a soft space
for nighttime

till finally
the Daystar pulls up
its night covers,
letting the darkness
take hold, while
dreaming of the morning’s
rosy aurora
Prompt: "your best 'pink' ."
Mary-Eliz Jun 2018
here I sit
things to do
that should be done
yet here I sit

here I sit
books unread
shelves undusted
yet here I sit

here I sit
things to write
remain unwrit
yet here I sit

'cause this ain't it
Puttering away on a Saturday.
Mary-Eliz Jun 2018
from dreams
to nightmares

flight to plummet

mania to collapse

flame to meltdown

zenith to zero

in 60 seconds flat
Mary-Eliz Jun 2018
eerily summoned

lonely
               
                      drifting
                                     on
                                                       unknown
                                         paths
                               forlorn
               bereft

                                   mislaid in
                  strange
places

unhinged senses
surreal thoughts
chilling dreams

lunatic demons
unholy ghosts

songs unsung
in
minor chords

music unnoted
in
words unheard

crazed
movements
 undanced

meaningless
nothingness
psychotic
paranoid
hopeless
u­seless
insipid
devoid
zero
nil
0
  Jun 2018 Mary-Eliz
Ann Beaver
If I could love
the limping
ugly
afraid
part of me
That I drag through the mud
and thorns

If I could let
the transparent
clawing
screaming
silhouette speak
Instead of kicking it
into the basement

If I could put
my deepest human essence
onto paper
for everyone to see

Then.
Then, I could be free.
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