I saw a horrible spider crawl,

All down my bedroom wall.

Staring with eight beady eyes,

Giving me a terrible surprise.




With eight legs, hairy and black.

And three red dots upon his black.

He stayed there, looking at me,

I am sure he had a smile I could see.




So I shouted for my dad.

He took a look and went mad.

"I'm not touching that, It's all hairy",

"Take a look, it's too scary".




So we all packed and moved away.

I wonder if the spiders' still there today.

Because now in our new house,

I have just seen a mouse.

Though down many long, sometimes crowded,
mostly lonely roads
of life in seasons spent, in the dreams
and memories, bittersweet in plans and schemes,
you, of one, and of some of a few,
touched my life
forever,
and you still now do,
with your hand outstretched,
I take it and in gratefulness,
thank you for your friendship,
and graciousness,
and though the road still before me lies,
it's not so lonesome with
you by my side.
__
Inspiring image:
http://beautyineverything.com/5357912558

Inspire me
and I shall
inspire you,
in return

Teach me,
and I will
teach you
right back

and we will
both be the wiser
for it

Two learned students
journeying down
the pathway of insight

Forgive me, for I am condemned.
My love I see you every night,
But the flames keep me away.

I try to reach out, to save you;
The heat is too intense, it defeats me.
I can not see you through searing pain.

Your screams tear me apart, I am beaten back.
Then there is silence and I hear you no more,
Tears fall, the agony as they trace my burnt flesh.

Oh Megan, I miss you more than life itself;
You were my life, my soul, my reason to be.
Why were you taken from me, love, pray tell me?

You now haunt my nightmares, I still hear you.
Your screams split apart my sanity, and the mirror;
It forever reminds me of this scar that Hell gave me.

Now I only have the darkness inside, and shown in words.
These very words I write, as if I am to be forever cursed,
Cursed to need to remember your face, with this dead heart.

Sadness is fear slowed down
so that we can observe every facet

it is a stillness, a little lucid dream
the looking at the look of our own face
in the early morning

fear is the pain
the dance turned to  chase, the story turned speech
the blindness perpetuated by not allowing a blink

sadness is the scar, that even later
when we release our hard-won anecdotes to our children
we nurse still in secret.

it is the lack of turns and edges,
the feeling of gravity strong,
but mysterious and without center.