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Amy H Jul 1
it’s roast on the roll
and no au jus.
I haven’t had my
dip in you.

the daily grind
that fills my cup,
isn’t quite
the pick me up.

every tedious
task or chore
passes on
with nothing more.

you didn’t leave
and nor did I,
but something’s gone-
I can’t deny.

there is no draw
without a laugh;
the fun has left
the other half.

it fizzled like
an opened pop;
without some Sun
the flower flops.

it’s kinda sad
but what to do?
my roast was meant
to have au jus.
when it hasn't been the same
Amy H May 13
Nothing is fixed;
like stars that
drift the sky by night
as Earth journeys round
in spite of Orion’s might.
The Sun that sets
ne’er regrets a day
on which it shone;
but all that’s grown is grateful
for the heat and it’s rest.
While Earth and heaven shift
the flowers die,
and stars implode.
I shan’t look back with tears
at love I had
and left in change of years.
All the light that shines
from years away
can sometimes find me, still.
Life and love keep going.
Amy H Mar 30
a wild heart can’t be broken,
a tame heart keeps the beat,
a heart like yours is spoken
within the sensual heat.
it’s sensitive and open
but careful and neat;
love in the smallest tokens,
the gestures we repeat.
so take the love that’s woken
into your soul so sweet-
a melody unbroken-
and make your mind’s retreat.
For Dollface.
Amy H Mar 11
I’m cutting your string.
The ball can roll
like columbus round the world
looking for the edge.
And I’ll be left
with the short piece
ready to drop it in the trash
while you tangle with your mess.
Sticky fingers,
trapped in knots
wondering how I got away
without a catch.
That’s what happens
when you play with girls
who run with scissors.
I’m sharp as steel
and just as strong.
Be careful
it might be
your fingers bleeding.
It's good to be strong.
Amy H Jan 12
(a metaphor...)

Turning times on who I had to be
singed and fragile
rigid as a leaf
wont to tumble
in the wind;
make a fist
see her crumble,
death of Spring
scattered on the ground.

Winter comes
to soothe the scorching,
freezing scars
til finally
the hottest Summer ever
is remembered not felt.
But a tree like me
abides the changing season
emerges thriving.
Seasons of change
Amy H Jan 10
life is poetry my dear,
while minutes and moments turn to years
and all the laughter, all the tears
teach us to release our fears;
to live like kings surviving jeers.
so raise your glass and let’s make cheers
for love keeps living, far or near;
a story for the poet’s ear.
I’m glad you’re in my story, Dear.
savor every moment, be happy for what is
Amy H Jan 2
how does a woman tell
about awakening?
the burning in her breast
the fire that lights
the embers long smouldering
‘neath years of stress
and fight
and proving;
when finally she esteems herself
enough
and sees the lines and curves
for wisdom
wealth
and birth.

knowing her power, real
allowing her to feel
that freedom waits
where shame has fade away.
she knows the joy
of being
this woman-

having this form,
the center of creation
in her body and her soul
to share or keep-
is like a dance.

dance alone she may
or with you

you’ll know her
by the passion of her touch
her laugh
her joy
her zeal for life
when two become one
if first
she knows herself
and so do you
The only way to pure love is through the self. A woman who sees her value is a treasure to those who know her.
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