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At one corner of the subconscious
she waits to land on my dream

this morn too she came

offering my hungry mouth
a piece of guava
part eaten it was laced with her saliva

*stoked my lust from the first bite
she never ages a bit
wished she came to me on each night
bringing youth endlessly sweet!
She is lonely
Her heart, body, and soul
Screams to the heavens and to the underworld for a lover
Looking for someone to love her and to want her
Not only physically, but emotionally too
For someone to notice her when she's out of balance and out of care
Someone who will free her from her mind
Someone who will make her heart a whole
Someone who will appreciate her, respect her, care for her
Someone to give her heart to, and more
Someone to be free and open with
But no matter how loud she screams
It hasn't came yet
Her lover ceases to exist
And she remains to keep herself locked up inside
And let her silence intensify
---a cheese-tasting cat? or a cat-tasting cheese? no, of course not!
             ---it is a cat named after a kind of cheese---

      
A picture of the late kitty, Scheppes,
appears on the computer,
she still, is the chosen wall paper...
she once ruled  the place, and
the heart of her master...
she was so adorable,
everyone must have dwelt on the thought,
she is irreplaceable...
but wait.....
what is this heap on the table
carelessly scattered,  sprawled?
a child's  coat?
with black stripes over gray fur?
what are these glowing,
green crystal buttons?

aha! suddenly, there is movement!
it is alive!

head and paws, now are visible,
green crystal buttons have turned
to emerald-eyes, now piercing,
glowing even more...
she shows her white vest underneath,
standing on her two paws,
clinging tighter to her master's feet...
to him, she softly purrs,
communicating in whispers,
staring over-confidently,
glaring eyes, slitting eyes
accompanying her every meow...
obviously, she feels contented,
lazily, peacefully slouched now,
between the keyboard
and her master...
young still,  naughty,
the house seems small to her whims,
too obsessed at times with Q-Tips,
sleepy after all her mischief,
seeming lethargic at times,
always savoring that feeling of peace,
happiness, she once didn't have...
for she has now found a new home,
she has found a new master to love,
one who would surely love her in return...

her name is B R I E ...*



Sally

Copyright 2014
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
***Brie is Richard Riddle's new cat....***
She must now be fifty four.
Her first love letter fifteen years younger!

The lover had long moved away
She too went her way
And the cramped years gave them little chance
Except rare remembrances of their first romance!

The letter with the broken edges and clumsy write
Must long be languishing far from daylight.

The girl it cannot be said if is content with her man
The man has settled after surfing many a woman.

They remained just first lovers so willed the fate
They would be a rosy memory each other’s first date.

They gained not nor lost except their age and look
The real loser is the love letter lying in unknown nook.

Still lives in the blind hope it would see her once more
In the belief she is still fifteen and not fifty four!
These rolling tides
are going to drown me
in sorrow in pain
in love and lust

Rolling and tumbling
tugging me hugging me
memories made
this hurt, this trust

I roll to your side
turn my back on this longing
no longer a child
naive and lost

You're rolling away
turned your back on forever
rejection bashing
this shove, this ******

No longer rolling
this shell is empty
but whole and ready
blow off the dust

Roll into the sunset
these waves of emotion
will fill me with courage
it will, I must.
© Annilda Esterhuysen. All rights reserved.
What a wonderful thing is
this, my heart,
that holds within its tiny chambers
such purpose, such destiny,
such love.
© Annilda Esterhuysen. All rights reserved.
Amazement taking
a human form
and performing for hours;
it wasn't anything less.

How the pianist does this
is beyond the grasp of mind,
owes her very much
for the deep cleansing
of our souls, but there isn't
a way to pay the pianist.

Don't know how much is enough
in material terms, whatever
will be not enough.
It's worth a few lifetimes
of deep healing, I guess,
This adventure crossing
boundaries of every kind
with ease humbles us,
eyes fill, streams of tears
just don't stop.


Fallowing her trail
we reached a clearing
in the tangled dark forest,
experienced a glimpse
of what is beyond:

immense ocean
of music
merging in
the dense sweet
dreamy silence
 Mar 2014 Kitbag of Words
Mikaila
I will sing with all the tenderness I have in my heart
And it will reach the ocean like rain
And make waves
That crash at your feet on the other side of the world.
And even if you never think of me again
You will feel me loving you,
The sheer might of it.
I promise you that.
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