Twigs and things
Sticks and strings
Patchwork fabric
Wallpaper of dreams
Rapture forever
In the eye turned back
Sweet cradle
Unsung in use
Robin’s loom
Of earth and tears
Sacrifice woven
Between the laths
Wallpaper sings
Children see magic
Robins see sticks
Twigs and things

The leaf-mottled
copperhead coiled
near my woodpile,
rendered sluggish
and harmless
by the cold,
makes no move
to strike.

Its flat eyes
simply stare,
as if to say:
welcome
to the Garden.
  - mce

I remember the day , I didn't know what to say, stuck for words, everything seemed so blurred, I murdered a hug but people just shrugged I pretended I was ok but I have to say it didn't last too long just for the day,

No moment goes by that I don't wish you were here , lay awake at night trying to fight the tears, wishing you would come home , prove I'm not alone,

We'll meet again someday so they say and I pray that then you will stay, just hoping you're okay and at rest, the big man only takes the best, when he took you he passed that test

We all miss you like mad trying not be sad, put on a brave face just like dad .. To see you one more time would mean the world but maybe it would ruin the surprise of the future

When our day comes at least we know that we have a safe place to go with someone who cares I know you're up there somewhere watching me write this and keeping me safe telling me you're in a good place.

In a rundown house,
On the edge of town
Where the grass is overgrown
The door’s unlocked and open,
The windows all are broke.
It’s been exactly twenty years
Since the chimney last saw smoke.

People pass by without seeing it.
Because it sits back off the road.
But when I pass by, I begin to cry.
It has a story seldom told.

Two nineteen year olds
Once planned their life
In that old abandon house.
She would bring a blanket.
He would bring the wine
They would dream about their future
Plan how they’d spend their time
Traveling to Places
Before they settled down
To raise their perfect family
In a house at the edge of town.

She would spread the blanket
He would build a fire
And long before the wine was gone
They would give in to desire
Passionate and furious
Holding on too tight
As if the dreams they shared
Were slipping
Off into the night.
As if the plans they made were
Smoke
From the fire in the room
Rising out the chimney
Into the afternoon,
Blown away by breezes,
Hidden by the clouds.
Invisible like secret fears
Never voiced aloud.

Spring turned into summer
Winter followed fall -
They began to meet less frequently
Then they didn’t meet at all.
The fire and the passion gone
The room now cold and bare,
The house at the edge of town
Unused,
But still standing there.

The memories of our teenage love
Were strong – We thought that we should meet
Once again in the vacant house set back from the street.
We set a date, but I was late
I almost didn’t go.
I sensed we were pretending;
Trying to return
Passion to a fireplace
Where the fire would not burn.

Eventually I pushed the door
And walked into the room
The fireplace had embers
As if it had burned awhile,
A bottle mostly empty
Had been thrown against the wall.
The blanket laid out smoothly,
But that was not quite all.
I saw my former lover
On the blanket dead and cold
With a note scrolled out in cursive
“I guess I should have known”
“You’re not here.  The fire’s gone. I have no need to live.
I hope that you’ll be happy -
When you finally come around
To the place we shared our love and dreams,
The house at the edge of town."

That’s the tragic story
And the reason for my tears;
The house on the edge of town
Still stands, even after all these years.
PwL  4/11/15

Hate dripped down from his words,
His eyes,
They bore into the soul,
Painfully,
Frostbite to her heart.

Yet she also fought with daggers,
Her sharp tongue flashing the blades,
Cutting him and
Defending
Her chilly soul.

As things turned worse,
Physical weapons appeared,
And the child watched,
Their child watched as
The husband beat the wife
And the wife beat the husband.
The child dares not to make a noise,
Fearing punishment.

The child has already lost the ability to cry.

How fragile in innocence?
A voice held in a small body
Reaching out
Crying and sighing
All it says is
"I don't know if mommy and daddy are going to be married anymore. I'm scared"
Pulled close, whispering words calm him down
But I cannot save his innocence.