On Turning Sixty-One**

Fitzgerald’s last line;
longing, lovingly

rendered in fourteen
words, ode

to inevitability
in any tongue.

“So we beat on”,
aching,

“boats against the current”,
our urgent

she bu de!,
she bu de!/

I can’t bear
to let go!,

“borne back”
on music

in the Latin,
de mihi tempus/

give me more
time.  

Songs echo
“ceaselessly into the past.”

She is moonbeams
And dappled sunlight
Renewal and
New beginnings
Gracing the land
With fragrant blossoms
Buzzing bees
And dandelion flurries
As children play
In Spring’s garden
Blowing happy bubbles
And laughter floats
Touching the heart and soul
She is Mistress of Spring

Kelly Rose
© April 1, 2017

tree house is on fire
but I just lost my lighter
ashes get higher
I'm so sorry father
cause I was only a liar
birds fly further
they carry my hopes
can I follow them?
and fly against the flow
but my heart is dead
my brain still says no
tears turned to dust
faded with all I trust
now that I'm alone
I'll go with the flow
down this road
against my hopes
down to my grave
with everything
I hate

Sleeping is often
A restless chore
Something to be endured

10  Words

Keith  Wilson.  Windermere.  UK.  2017.

upon a ledge i felt this urge
to look beyond
the rock under my feet
crazy
is not a goal
a destination maybe
listened to people
some experts on cliff psychiatry
say
an urge to jump
is an urge to live
so high places
I seek
precarious
a bit
of anxiety sensitivity
some said
I look out over
the roofs
after all
down is where
we go
eventually

There's a storm inside me
it starts every time I hear your laughter in the night,
when I think about the way we changed
from human beings
to some people who can only share
some words written on a cold page;

it's hard to explain how is it that I miss you
when I've never really had you in the first place
and you wouldn't understand
you see
your heart has long forgotten about feelings like these.

still

I hear your voice calling my name
I see you before my eyes
even in my dreams I write you in bleeding lines
and in my waking hours
your smile brings raindrops in my coffee
and tears on the shirt I wear
because once you said that you liked it;


spring brings tulips at my doorstep
but it's hard to feel their perfume
to let their scent in my broken lungs;

people tell me that all I have to do
is breathe



but it's hard to breathe without crying.