Every morning in my garden I see
A fluttering gentle little soprano
Humming the song of her life
Hovering around seductive colours
Tasting, sipping nature’s recipe
Fluttering wings, ****** heart beat
Waltzing in midair to a melody so sweet
Happy to be alive, genuflecting for gifts of life

Every morning in my garden I pray
I wish what she wished was a reality
Not an illusion, a self delusional creation
Her happiness momentary, squashed in infancy
Hawks, raptors, eagles await in anticipation
With scythes in their hands…
Sharpening them, vying with each other
Whose morsel shall she be
I wish what she wished was a reality

For her will there be a tomorrow …?

Woman: “I know you’re there, I always know,
                  so please, come out.
                  We have so much to talk about.”

Child: “I’m just always scared and alone, it
             really hurts to be me.
             All I am is everything they don’t want
             me to be.”

Woman: “You missed out on so much care and
                  affection, but now we can help each
                   other find the right path and direction.”

Child: “Oh, it’s ok.
             I’m never good enough.
             Guess I never really deserved
             love or affection anyway.”

Woman: “Please don’t say that, don’t let’em
                  convince you that **** drivel is
                  true.
                  I’ve known you well, always, and I
                  truly DO...Love you.”

Child: “No matter how I tried, I could never
             please, or do ANYTHING right.
             I’m just SO tired of this fight.”

Woman:” I know, my fragile child, that’s why
                  I’m still learning to be
                  everything you need and needed,
                  you see?
                  Because, my little one, we must
                  both realize and always remember
                  that we are never quite alone...

                  ‘cause I am YOU, and you are ME!”



-by Mercurychyld
Copyrights

Over night busses infused with the smell of *** and popcorn
Bright eyed, happy kids with grubby faces no tears in sight
Dusty chaotic little towns fully charged with life
A chance meeting with a wild character
Offers of an experience we couldn't refuse
We paid up
Loaded up
And sped off
Into the velvet of the night
Headlights and darkness wrestling in the dust
Then the dead of the desert
Nothing


Everything
Night skies bursting with stars
Midnight picnics
Cheap box wine, sandwiches and chocolate
Chasing enormous moons
Morning hangovers
Magnified by the stark sun
Fluid shadows cast
Where waves once crashed
But now
A barren emptiness
Holding so many secrets
Looking very closely
Oh, we did look closely
Evidence of ancient aquatic life
Chalk like ghosts set in the sand
Appearing only as the wind allows
Whale bones and rare blackened sharks teeth
There in the most arid place on earth
The Atacama desert Peru
Three days and nights we were out there hunting
Amongst the bashful bones of her prey
Hunting the formidable, elusive and extinct
M E G A L O D O N
Apex predator of the oceans
There in that parched sand
Clear signs of her hunting
But she remained unseen
Too modest to bare her beauty to this martian land
Waiting for the seas to rise
Maybe not for too much longer

What do you see, old man, sitting alone by the fire?
Heartless world of scorn and hurt , treasuring hate like a philosopher's stone.
Judgment passed, greybeard by the road,
Must be a thief, waiting for the night to dawn.

His sunken eyes know the way into the dark
As evil forbearing comes with the folds in his hand
Wrinkles on his face, countless tales to recount
How he crept thru the darkness, still and quietly,
And watched as the baby cried with fear.

How shallow this world, with its looks and half learnt lessons,
The old man by the fire, his tales of a world so far from this.
Child, learner, lover and father
His sunken eyes reveal the times he's forgiven with a heart, so grand.
With his very hands, he's cared and worked for the ones he loved
His wrinkles recount tales of a life well served.

But now, he sits, alone by the fire,
Disowned, refused,
Unwanted, forgotten.
Caught up in the web of the world,
Buried in the sands of time.