I lost my inner poet
apparently she was last seen
just staring idly into space

She was sitting with her notebook,
gently pondering
in a quiet, tucked away place

I could only see the back of her
she wouldn't turn around
I so wanted to see her face

She was always so quiet
and very often reflective
working at her own steady pace

Not only am I left without poetry
I am also lost for words
she may have taken them all
along with my grace

The search will continue
maybe until the end of my days
as I fear she's left no trace

i want your garden
sprout from the earth
breathe you in
consume all of you

i want to feel
green in my feet
in between my toes
it can't be beat

the sweetest smell
it's like the fuel
i know it all
a little too well

the warm embrace
what is this place?
it seems you've left
without a trace

who are you now
you've left me again
i feel the fear inside
purer than the water
that brought us here
it's beginning to get to me