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 Jun 2017 Ami Shae
ryn
Some of the best words of art
come from the most
bruised and battered
of hearts.
 May 2017 Ami Shae
Cné
My Dad was a unique person
too little understood.
I do not sing his praises
as often as I should.

This day I will remember
my Daddy as he was
holding me when I was little
tickling me, just because.

He would tell me not to worry
or have no fears, or tears.
He's in a place of warmth and comfort
where there are no days, or years

I won't think of him as gone away
his journey's just begun.
For life holds so many facets
this earth is only one.

I'll remember not his fight for breath
nor remember not the strife
I'll not dwell upon his death
but celebrate his life.

Today I celebrate his birthday.
He would be eighty~four.
Though a woman now of many years,
I'm still my Daddy's little girl.
May 10, 1933 ~ December 23, 2013
Here he lies
with his two wives
his wife and her twin sister
between the two
who really knew
identical, they were also tricksters
 May 2017 Ami Shae
Cné
Elusive
 May 2017 Ami Shae
Cné
I know it's out there somewhere
the elusive balm of sleep.
I've tried an evening toddy
and I'm running out of sheep.

Prescriptions drugs and sedatives
placebos, they must be.
Because my eyelids won't stay shut
there's far to much to see.

The REM my body craves
is like a hidden itch.
I know I need to scratch it
but can't FIND that *******!

And so I lie in darkness
and stare up at the fan.
I try to count rotations
while making up a plan.

The Sandman's on vacation.
I guess i'll read a book.
I listen to some sound effects
a breeze and babbling brook.

I may just have the answer.  
A hammer is the cure.
But such a headache I would get!
That has no real allure.

Desperation beckons.  
I'm teetering on the brink.
I'd give a lot for just a bit
( ten dollars for a wink?)

My eyes are red and swollen.  
My jaw is sore and raw.
The yawns are coming faster now
there oughta be a law.

I'll see you in the morning.  
Sweet dreams if sleep you can.
For me...I'll just go meditate
and watch that ceiling fan.
What else can I say... I can't sleep
 May 2017 Ami Shae
Cné
What is the sky
but a canvas for clouds?
What is a city
but a canvas for crowds?
What is the meadow
so verdant and green
but a canvas for sheep
a pastoral scene?
What is the ocean
with reflections so blue,
than a canvas for sails
as they drift into view?
I think I shall paint...
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