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  Oct 2015 Ainsley
Oscar Wilde
(To L. L.)

Could we dig up this long-buried treasure,
Were it worth the pleasure,
We never could learn love’s song,
We are parted too long.

Could the passionate past that is fled
Call back its dead,
Could we live it all over again,
Were it worth the pain!

I remember we used to meet
By an ivied seat,
And you warbled each pretty word
With the air of a bird;

And your voice had a quaver in it,
Just like a linnet,
And shook, as the blackbird’s throat
With its last big note;

And your eyes, they were green and grey
Like an April day,
But lit into amethyst
When I stooped and kissed;

And your mouth, it would never smile
For a long, long while,
Then it rippled all over with laughter
Five minutes after.

You were always afraid of a shower,
Just like a flower:
I remember you started and ran
When the rain began.

I remember I never could catch you,
For no one could match you,
You had wonderful, luminous, fleet,
Little wings to your feet.

I remember your hair—did I tie it?
For it always ran riot—
Like a tangled sunbeam of gold:
These things are old.

I remember so well the room,
And the lilac bloom
That beat at the dripping pane
In the warm June rain;

And the colour of your gown,
It was amber-brown,
And two yellow satin bows
From your shoulders rose.

And the handkerchief of French lace
Which you held to your face—
Had a small tear left a stain?
Or was it the rain?

On your hand as it waved adieu
There were veins of blue;
In your voice as it said good-bye
Was a petulant cry,

‘You have only wasted your life.’
(Ah, that was the knife!)
When I rushed through the garden gate
It was all too late.

Could we live it over again,
Were it worth the pain,
Could the passionate past that is fled
Call back its dead!

Well, if my heart must break,
Dear love, for your sake,
It will break in music, I know,
Poets’ hearts break so.

But strange that I was not told
That the brain can hold
In a tiny ivory cell
God’s heaven and hell.
Ainsley Oct 2015
"You taught me the courage of stars before you left
how light carries on endlessly, even after death.
With shortness of breath, you explained the infinite
how rare and beautiful it is to even exist."

*-Copyrights to these lyrics go to Sleeping at Last, from the song Saturn
Ainsley Aug 2015
Whisper "nothing like a journey’s end"
Fire round the riverbend
Toes under sheets far beneath the sand
Smoke arise the dawn is high
She laughs to let the moment pass by
Whisper why, whisper why

Approval from a distant moon
Photography, an old saloon
Oh all this time, it was always just us two
Twirling round my silver spoon
A coffee stain, a baby croon
Oh you never knew, the song was you

Whisper downstairs where the music lies
Laughing bout late nights, long drives
Forgot our blues in the radio highs
Toss away all our plans
Build a new world with these hands
Whisper we can, whisper we can
This is a song I'm writing; I've barely even started but I was so excited that I couldn't wait to post it!
Ainsley Mar 2015
And
I like tea
and candles
and antique mirrors
I like far-away laughter
and freshly-mowed grass
and summer sunsets
I like secret songs
and rain on windows
and late mornings in bed

But ****, I sure liked it all the more with you.
This isn't even really a poem, I'm just in a pensive mood
Ainsley Mar 2015
Scent of your tears
Breaks through the night
Dreams of petrichor

Echos of “why”
Weave through my songs
Feigning dissonance

Polaroid mind
Faux amity
My hushed thirst for her

This estrangement,
Imperative,
Short of recompense
Ainsley Mar 2015
The way she tells me I'm hers and she is mine
Open hand or closed fist would be fine
The blood is rare and sweet as cherry wine
Ainsley Jun 2014
Twelve different voices
Eleven coffee cups
Ten vibrant table covers
Nine aromas blended up

Eight piping pastries
Seven large bags
Six ringing smart phones
Five tail wags

Four tiny laptops
Three macaroons
Two smiling faces
In this one room
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