I have this ability,

Inside,

Within my very being...

A Gift?..
Talent...
A Skill, Yes...

Worthy of Honing.

This, my craft
I've come to love.
But it is so much more,

Much more,.

You may call my way
However you believe it to be...

But I hold it's secret.

See it for what it is,..
and it is Amazing,

It is Ancient, and Limitless...

To me, the one that wields it,
this blessing?.. I see, incredible things.

I alone, my inner eye,..

Then of nothing, shall I create something,..

Seen til this moment,...
By me, and me alone.

Now, made real by my magic,..
Physical, Real,..

Mysterious spells, and enchantments cast
upon, into, over and through it.

imagination, emotion, heart and soul,..

Do you see?... Gaze upon my artwork...

Inside of you, and you, and me...

Strings, and I manipulate, maneuver, Agitate,..
I Soothe, I sympathize, I celebrate,...

Surrendering myself, entirely,
I make each piece,..

These spells are made of every color.

Potions stirred into impossible textures.
Subject matters,..

Please Judge.
Please Critique,
Please, please, pretend
to know my reasons,..

I see the awe

See the hidden wonder...
what state of mind must mine be indeed.

See the cloth that made me,
Makes everything!

I am destined,
I have heard my calling...
Bottom, to Top,..
Roots, up,...

In love with my calling.

caught up in the missing
all of the little things
the way that morning treated you
and every conversation
laughter, and that smile
those eyes, the lies
the closeness that i used to feel
your sweet, soft breath matching mine
the way you said my name sometimes
the time that went by to quickly
I even find myself holding out for you
caught up in the missing
it is hard to want anything
having had all that you wanted
and I did I cherished it
never took for granted
all the little things, your soft kisses
the promises and compromises
Every problem we ever faced
getting rent paid,
every goal we set and reached
the future you said that you wanted
caught up in missing
the way you changed
how you chose to leave
the ending and why it happened
the things I shoul've said
caught up in missing

I once had the smallest hands
I reflect upon one afternoon
Leading to their earnest review
These beat up, sore and tired hands
How completely different are they
Fully grown as I am today
These ways of earning a living demand
Strength, precision, more than a hint
Talent and lessons apparent upon each
Scars, scabs and at times swelling
When the tougher days at last end

I used to have the smallest hands
Before my youth was traded
When my life became work
Survival from what I do with them.

Another moment of you and I,
and you are so innocent,
eyes bright and unconcerned for our fates
lost in the magic of your ways
my eyes, again water from the pride
I am awestruck and beside myself
whispering into my unconscious ear not to look away
to remember this, every detail, the sight, sound, your scent and your smile
because tomorrow, nay, five minutes from now you change
never to be the exact little child you are this moment
and I want to keep these moments
the countless times in our lives that you are my only thought
my only purpose, my pride and my joy
I love you so very much, as a parent should
and you'll know it yourself one day,
I hope I am there to see it, and share with you such a gift
thank you child, for lighting my way.
I don't want to blink...
If done the moment is over and I know there are others
but right now, like this, I am in love with this moment.
I love you Zieven Lee...
I am so proud and thankful to have you in my life.
I don't want to blink...
Eyes water, and the moments changed.

It was the weight of her kisses
The    way     her      body     lay
                        And
             the vacant
                            longing for embrace
Things had changed
                       And
we    would    never   be   the   same
             a final courtesy
when
        she knew
                           for sure
                                             she could
                   not love me
Would      not        pretend
She
            answered            so             softly
And               honesty               cost                  me
                                                          The black
                        and white,
Sit-com life
I hold out hope still for.

shouldn't you know
couldn't you see
wouldn't I think
shouldn't believe
would if maybe
I couldn't see the angles
I wouldn't have controlled

what's done is all been foolishly over done
you occupy that unforgettable place
where all you become is my ruin
what to believe,
to what choice is left to turn on

shouldn't you know
couldn't you see
wouldn't I think
shouldn't believe
would if maybe
I couldn't see the angles
I wouldn't have controlled

what's done is all been foolishly over done
you occupy that unforgettable place
where all you become is my ruin
what to believe,
to what choice is left to turn on

fearing life's end is mute
what if to fear the suns sinking
then have the same scene each evening
you know the sun will return
what side do you choose to see

She is, remains...
adorned importance
not seen as she is felt.

She is, fragrance
perfumes of blues,
purples hues, enticing.
bottled to be sprayed
by a chosen few

She is, stored away
boxed up in opaque

she is, ashes
all shades of grey
time and distance...

She is,...
            Fog At Daybreak.

by:jrfehlmann 12/2012

All these words,
every one place with purpose,
patterned upon a need,
a want, some way in which to serve
to supplement or contain,
to hold, both within,
without.
owned by losing all that is,
will be, has come
or once was is gone
another demonstration of loss
like she is,..  gone...
I have not, still, not...
but breathing,
lost in thought.