Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
Sugar is sweet
and perhaps you are too,
But the roses have wilted,
the violets are dead,
The sugar bowl is empty
And your wrists are stained with red,
The sun isn't shining,
The sky isn't clear,
there's no silver lining because your gone
Rain keeps pouring,
There's no end in sight,
you're standing there frozen
so far from the light,
Your beauties unreal,
your smile the sun,
but time can't be turned nor your actions undone,
The words you wrote that only I read,
"I love you so much, please don't cry when I die"
A bond that we formed,
a love that ran deep,
a pain that we shared,
a friend I could keep,
I wanted to hold you,
wipe the tears from your eyes,
been there the moment you said your goodbyes,
I want to forget but sometimes I don't,
I want to let go,
but I know that I won't,
Tears on my face,
memories burned in my head,
The roses have wilted,
The violets have died....

Blessed are those eyes,
One green, one hazel.
A shade for heaven,
And a shade for earth,
Balanced on a smile worth a million words.
Blessed are those eyes

.
The waves spilled the rising tide
back into the scattered footprints  in the sand
deeply entrenched in life’s mystery,
receding into every breaking wave


A stiff sea breeze put back every grain of sand,
elements of a larger object gathers,
gravity firmed, into the silent shoreline chasms—
a beheld essence washed out to sea
by the fugitive tides and retreating sea-foam


Soon all trodden traces visibly vanish;
unmarked mileposts on a metaphysical pathway
slip away back to a windswept shoreline
and elapsing summer tide


Seabirds glide in slow-motion,
held sway into the shapeless gusts —
as if feathered puppets hovering,
hanging from the rafters
of the burgeoning orange sky


There's an uncommon peace in the renaissance;
effervescent crisp ocean air filling
the indefinable emptiness
marooned within each heartbeat’s echo


Each new breath inhaled,  disappearing within
the unhealed hollow of every thing once believed;
fully aware this life is unholdable as time,
yet feeling many things deeply retained
    in each passing moment—
slipping away like a handful of sand
sifting through all these hands once held


Presence becoming wreathed in a miasma of stillness,
space that levitates like an unpredictable fog
that seeps into the gnawing voids
of an unsated hunger



harlon rivers  ...  August 1st,  2018

.
Pray excuse me Lady, I do beg thy pardon,

but I saw thee walking in the lonely garden,

chestnut hair falling over a long white gown,

and sadness deep in eyes of almond brown.

Forgive mine intrusion, please take a glance,

agree to accompany me to the lovers dance,

for thy loneliness to mine open heart screams,

so take mine hand and show me thy dreams.




© Pagan Paul (16/06/18)