As the ink sinks into the paper
i burrow deeper
inside of myself, until i am lost
in words, alliteration, commas and
full stops
to crop my faults
and tie my edges together
sew myself,
with rhythmic leather
in an attempt to hold secure
My frayed mentality,
conceal the reality,
That i have fallen apart,
Glue together new beginnings and fresh starts,
With ink at the heart,
Of it all.

the pond asymetrical
mirrored the old oak tree
in perfect symmetry

the stillness of
the autumn day,
chambrey blue sky,
fairy floss, fluffed, whiteclouds
drifting along, lazy and dryeyed
people strolling by wrapped in scarves and coats.

all in conterpoint
to the stillness of the pond
and the old oak tree
caught staring,
lovingly, longingly
at each other.

Every time I swallowed my pride
I let down my guard
I exposed myself
all for one person
it killed me inside a little more
yet it all was intensely perfect
your presence
that ran electric current
through every tip of my being
the taste of you
forever on the tip of my tongue
returning me
to the nape of your neck
all these words spoke
that can be used against me
remain worth the sacrifice

To the part of me that dies

Come morning,
when darkness lifts
its veil of mourning,
the warm sun gifts
her day to praise
with sweet refrain
on a grassy grave
in the mountains.

r ~ 5/10/14

i am a mother
away from her child
i  am a child
apart from her mother
i am a friend come sister-kin
grieving a loss unbearable
i am adrift
in a sea of nothingness
please my lover hold me
close...murmur kind wise
words in my ear
and for you i will recipriocate
for you are
father,son, friend
and you too need
me to be near.
alone, together, adrift
this mother's day night.

my mother is always right!!!
whether it be,
framed in the short or long.
took me nigh, on forty years
of being down-right wrong,
to finally get it right,
when my child came along.
so now  it so happens,
that  oftentimes,
i am wrong and i am right.
sometimes makes it,
a tad
difficult to sleep at night.

but as mother's always do
i'll just muddle on thru..

When the first rays of the sun is cast on you through the venetian blinds
Your hair, a golden hue, in curls they tumble and fall on to your sides.
Your skin, a tanned wonder, Aphrodite will envy with her immortal soul
And your wild and untamed spirit, through your eyes, even Artemis will fall.
Your voice is like honey and works magic to the heart and mind
As you sit there, by the window and sing till the heavens will open and the gods descend down.

And when it rains
it pours
in that little mind of yours.
So you take your thoughts
and hang them out to dry
in the form of a poem.