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It's been on your mind
You cringe from the thought of it
But you have been a victim...
A victim
Of wanting to do what you fear most,
******.
It's hated, controversial, and sinful
But everyone's has had it cross their mind
Everyone has thought
******.
-Dougie Simps
Hm
 Jul 2013 Lady Annabelle
-
Once upon a time, I met someone
He had real cute hair
and a sweet as heaven smile
I knew from the moment
that we met
that we'd

f
       a
             l
                  l
in
love

But what I didn't know was
how hard would I fall?
for this bad boy of a soul
that's what I never knew
would I be the one for you?
or another second choice
for yet another immature boy?
© Natali Veronica 2013.
 Jul 2013 Lady Annabelle
-
My brain is losing touch with reality
I wish you were here with me
So lonely on my own
Be my everything
And let's make a home
For us to live in
A future for us
To look forward to
Me and you
© Natali Veronica 2013.
 Jul 2013 Lady Annabelle
st64
he says:
I want to hear the sun..
on me


1.
cover the width of a personal compostela
the yellow-and-black bird
flitting
branch to branch
endless

square patterns of light
half-cut
into shades of green
and slant
oblique


2.
making headway now
companions on the path
passing by
auburn creature with lolling tongue
            looks with such kind eyes
            glittering diamonds
            sun sits on tip of wet nose
he seems to be saying something...
some evanescent message

thoughts are ventilated
tones of silence seep in
wild flowers in amaranthine bloom
sway in nature's perpetual dance
always moving


3.
what happens to arboreal ghosts
when we prove efficiency by cutting the arms of living trees
          and with it
extended family of foliage?

monk passes slow
nods in quiet greeting
a bare half-smile
   enough to reach
   yet just truncated enough

maybe
to prune
is needed /


4.
how many more steps to tread
before *the why
becomes clear?

trod so far
sought so wide
read so much
travelled so intense

this journey alone
proves so arduous


5.
alone...

struggled with hidden pain he discovered beneath the layers of happiness....
suffered hunger and thirst along the way....
washed in ***** rivers with no soap....
had to clean his **** with dusty leaves in the eve....
and remembering to eat
what to eat...but berries in the dark

and he cried, oh how he cried
from a place no man should see
such a dark place
demented and wicked souls at the doorstep
of hell
would shrink at

but first
in order to do all that
he had to wrestle with himself
and die inside
he could no longer fail to consent

no wistful little prayers
or wide-eyed flower-eyes

nor awe born in luxury



yet
for all that...


6.
in a little while
you will get what you want
if you give enough people
what they want

pray in secret
in the sun



the boy with the Jesus sandals
walks on

his journey
has
begun
....



S T, (thursday:) 4 July 2013
one can find one's compostela...in yer own backyard :)

enjoying a rare ginger-tea with (deliciously sweet-soured) singed tomato on buttered toast...and listening to this fine song! >>






sub-entry: 'Dearly beloved' - - Fred Astaire


Songwriters: KERN, JEROME / MERCER, JOHN H.

Tell me that it's true,
Tell me you agree,
I was meant for you,
You were meant for me.

Refrain

Dearly beloved, how clearly I see,
Somewhere in Heaven you were fashioned for me,
Angel eyes knew you,
Angel voices led me to you;

Nothing could save me,
Fate gave me a sign;
I know that I'll be yours come shower or shine;
So I say merely,
Dearly beloved ~ be mine.

Repeat Refrain



www.youtube.com/watch?v=DBVmPxQLKTg
 Jul 2013 Lady Annabelle
-
4th
 Jul 2013 Lady Annabelle
-
4th
Red on my shirt
White are my jeans
The sky is blue
And I am free
Like the
American Dream
Happy 4th of July.

© Natali Veronica 2013.
 Jul 2013 Lady Annabelle
-
Lust* is deadly
It consumes me
And what's left of my *soul

Makes me want to
Lose Control.
© Natali Veronica 2013.
 Jul 2013 Lady Annabelle
-
I must let go and move on
But people say
True love lives on in
Lovesick hearts
I must say
I do agree
Because
My heart
Is forever yours

I will never call you mine
So I might as well write
About how I fell so hard
For your charm
And sweet lips
Like candy
On a high
When you
Talk to me

You have the medicine
The cure I need
Your love is a drug
That I can't get enough of
It's a need
It's a must
This isn't lust
It's love
© Natali Veronica 2013.
Helen pushed
the second hand
doll’s pram
over the bombsite

off Meadow Row
Battered Betty her doll
was tossed
from side to side

there there
Helen said
can’t be helped
you walked beside her

practising drawing
your silver coloured gun
from the holster
your old man

had bought you
from the cheap shop
through the Square
you hit back

the hammer
one two three times
just like that
I can’t get her to sleep

Helen said
stopping by the ruins
of a bombed out house
she tucked the doll in

with the woollen blankets
her mother had knitted
Mum said to take Betty
for a walk in the pram

but she still won’t sleep
you put the gun back
in the holster
and pushed back

the black hat
your granddad
had given you
have to keep her quiet

around here
you said
there might be Injuns
and they scalp hair

off babes and kids
and such
Helen looked
around the bombsite

looks deserted to me
she said
pushing the pram away
from the bombed out house

you never can tell
you said
they hide  
and when you’re least

expecting it
they come screaming
over the plains
Mum said you’d make

the best husband
for me
Helen said
coming to a halt

opposite the coal wharf
you drew out
your gun again
and fired shots

over your shoulder
that’s nice of her
you said
twirling the gun

over your finger
and then back
into the holster
Mum said

you would make
a good dad
one of the horse drawn
coal wagons moved away

from the coal wharf
and clip-clopped
along the side road
perhaps

you said
we could get our own
house on the prairie
or one of those houses

off St George’s Road
with the big gardens
Helen got
Battered Betty out

of the pram
and rocked her
over her shoulder
patting her back

and said
yes and I could milk
the cows and you
could hunt buffalo

and we could sleep
in one of those
big beds
with buffalo skins

over by the main road
a red number 78 bus
went by
and dark clouds

crowded
the less
than blue sky.
A boy and girl in London in the 1950s playing games that were real for them.
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