I’m finally going to get on that platform
on the 18th of next month,
for a first-time, one-time performance.
The once, seemingly impossible will come fully true,
which seems like a lot narratively.

It’ll be like leaving home—but we’re crashing out.
Moving on to other plot points, big topics and intense missions.
We’re all caustically optimistic.

Although there’s a cellular-level pull to move on
we can’t help but feel a hesitancy to jump into our multifarious futures.
We’ve never been improvident.

In my personal pool of experience, when I feel alone,
friendless and unseen, this unintelligible fear noise arises
and I'm tempted to tap out. But I never have.
.
.
Songs for this:
walk but in a garden by LLusion
What Dreams Are Made Of by Evann McIntosh
I Like You (A Happier Song) [feat. Doja Cat] by Post Malone

(Maddy’s Music challenge:
“Write a poem based on three words from a song.”
Song: 'Words of love' by the Beatles 1964)

I’m the harshest critic,
the truest of nonbelievers,
when words of love are used.
Soapy words will not deliver
so please stop trying to be smooth.

Don’t compare me to a summer’s day!
I know that’s from some Broadway play.

Waste not flattery’s rose
praise not my grace,
at least not to my face,
you’re better off praising my clothes.

Forgo sweetness, promise nothing
then you may be onto something
say it, straight up, I won’t faint
trust me, sir, I am no saint.
.
.
A song for this:
Words of love by the Beatles

Harsh Sun throws our
Shadows sharp against
Flagstones.

Beside the Priory wall,
Brought low by Henrys' Hammer the
Abbott lies, long gone.

Just we two, Now, in
Silhouette-

Your walking stick tapping a
Military Tattoo,
My hat of Panamanian straw
To delineate our presence.

O History-
Goodbye

Surely the New,
Loosened from past embrace

Shall see lovely flowers linger
Just for this Sunny Day

Give me the colors of a rainbow and I'll be your heart's extol  
or a petal from your favorite rose so I can place it in my soul;
Send me the pillow the fairies have gleaned with watermark  
I'll hold it to my chest until I hear the melodious coo of a lark!  

Be a Spiritual Gem inside me, I will polish and make you shine  
like a soaring star I'll glitter so you know,"I'm truly~truly thine."

The coy moon left us fumbling
wandering in the sleepless warmth
transformed by night sweats
and wet despair
into fractious infants crying
for relief from the night fires.

Douse me now!

you walk
no matter the direction
this dream
      never changes much
they put their foreheads
to yours And smile

in some they are wolves
that sleep at your side

in others travelers
that gather
with you in the forest

in others they
   point toward a tiger
lurking in your chest

you walk
        and they protect
nothing is wild

        (not even a dream)