In the midst of day
The strong winds blow
You not ready to say
Now the motion is slow
This is not your first
To say goodbye
May be its my test
****! Why am I so shy?
It's the love that clicks
For you know that
You ignore my flicks
But you ready to bet
Who would call first?
It's not me,....No!
I will take my rest
Door is open, you may go...

©sim

She was the art of beauty
perfected in human form  
and I was a helpless wanderer
lost in the pages of her fairy and magic
and her name was the birth of poetry
and her kiss taught flame and fire
how to dance
and her smile was the moon
and the sun and the everything
and the heart of love
beat in her chest
she plucked a black feather
from the night
and taught the raven how to fly
and the humming bird how to sing
she planted the first tree
from the last tear of spring
and carved the first leaf
from autumns skull
while telling stories to dragons and their young
and gave them a butterfly
with a map hidden in its wings
should they ever need to escape
to the safety of dreams
where she would be waiting
to teach starfish to fly
and planets to swim
and sculpting hearts
of wonder and clay
for whomever may need
something new
for something broken
and it would all be a dream
of a dream
and in the end
it would still be a love
of a love
as we all get lost
in the art of her beauty
perfected in human form

She answers the prayers
of the lonely
and tenderly sews
and stitches broken hearts
and gives them a new coat of paint
and teaches them to laugh
and play and sing again

She is kind and wise
and knows more secrets
than all the mermaids
and the skulls lost at sea
and keeps a garden made
of flame and poetry
hidden in the heart
at the bottom of the ocean

She is there for the lost
and the miserable
and the dead
to guide them home
and carries the light of hope
in the emerald green of her eyes
full of elven lore

She was the first to have wings
and spread them endless and black
against the sky
to give the day
and the tired
a time to sleep
and dreams a place to bloom

She carved the moon and the stars
from the beat of her heart
and placed them high up in the night
and you can hear her voice
in the lullabies of leaves
and the song of the wind
whenever you whisper a lonely prayer
from the pieces of a broken heart

I was looking forward
to today.

Because yesterday
had promised that
today was going
to be better...

And easier.




Yesterday is a ******* liar.

.