Hush...
Be still...
Try to remain silent.

Listen very closely...
Her pleading may be heard
As it is carried through the wind.
Her emotional appeal
Sounds desperate -
It is unbearable to an epath.
Her pleads are ever so faint
And gentle, they are far from violent.

Hush...
Be still...
It is her soul's agony
Which is vibrating
A disturbing frequency,
At such a rate that it constitutes
A wave.

Cries, which nature, alone,
Can hear and feel...
Cries, which shake the leaves free
From the branches of all the
Majestic trees; neither her soul
Nor the trees, can you save.

Hush...
Be still...
Can you feel the faint tremble  
Under your barefeet?

Hush...
Be still...
Rest your cheek upon the earth,
Feel her spirit, which is trapped
Deep down inside.
Inhale her essence- it is buried below,
In the fragrant moist soil...
Taste the droplets, she is in the dew;
Even in pain she is a soul
So gently sweet...
~ She is tinged with sadness--
Bittersweet.

By Lady R.F (C)2017

Flowers
Are a reminder
That without a little rain
We wouldn't be able to bloom,

Without clouds
And a little bad weather
We wouldn't be able to smell
Their divine fragrant perfume.

Flowers
Are a reminder
That we need gloomy days
So we can highly value
The sun's radiant,
Life-powering, life-giving light,

Because without
Any form of darkness
We wouldn't appreciate
The glorious clear-blue skys
And the gift of precious daylight.

By Lady R.F. (C)2017

 Jul 2017 James
Petal
Crazy Lady
 Jul 2017 James
Petal

I'm the "crazy lady" here in town
My long skirts and big hats seem to frighten
My eyes are too big for my face,
I'm well aware
But, I paint them anyway
I can't leave
I drink too much
Think too much
I lie about caring what these people think
I care
It hurts
The things they say
Odd
Strange
Crazy
Insane
Whore
They say
"What? She knows no other colour than black is in existance."
"Her family have their money from shine."
"Her nans is Cherokee. Red skinned. And she dyes Her hair, I've heard."
I'm the crazy lady
I look away.....

 Jun 2017 James
Polar

When life feels suspended by a delicate thread
Change is inevitable
I sometimes feel stifled
Tightly constricted
Like a chrysalis
Struggling against transformation
I oppose the transition
And need more time to adapt
Today
A butterfly tapped against my window
Like change asking to come in
If I can comply with Grace
Maybe I too can transcend
And withstand the butterfly effect

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