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  Sep 2014 Marian
Andrew Durst
I smile whenever you smile
and feel the clenching
pain in my chest
whenever you feel low.
                 But you are not a burden.
    Love cannot be true
    without every ounce of
    you.
And just as beautiful as you are;
the scars on your heart
will not go in vein.
You are loved.
  Sep 2014 Marian
Hilda
And still I dream of stepping back into yesterday
Where time flowed so freely golden with serenity
We would sit in pine scented grove and sip lemonade
Our talk tranquil as sun dappled creek murmuring in quiet wood
Never arguing or complaining but flooded with blissful reverie
A time bygone and peaceful, learning to know each other again
Listening to the background symphony of cicadas and katydids
Poignantly nostalgic with yearnings of bygone days
Watching velvety dusk deepen into shades of whispering night
Relishing each breeze laden with moss and murmuring pine
Anticipating the dawn awakened by drowsy robins and wood thrush
Skies east to west stained with strawberry hues and dreams renewed
And still I shall dream on

**~Hilda~
© Hilda September 7, 2014  Eleven o'clock PM
  Sep 2014 Marian
Hilda
Sweet gentle daughter of dreaming blue eyes
Reflecting visions from some distant sphere;
Untainted by nightmares of icy fear,
Nor saddened yet by fate's mocking disguise.
Unopened book of fickle tomorrow,
Not certain of how future may unfold,
With hours of lead or hours of molten gold;
Unenlightened yet by unknown sorrow.
Sands rush through the hourglass of wasted years,
While breaking our young hearts with shattered dreams.
The clock of life wrings disappointed tears,
Unhampered by our plans and clever schemes.
Beware grim reaper swinging ***** blade
Who mocks thee as childhood days slowly fade.

**~Hilda~
© Hilda September 20, 2014 4:48 PM
Dedicated to my dear daughter Marian.
  Sep 2014 Marian
Andrew Durst
it can either be
the greatest gift
or the most
painful response.
I haven't been writing short poems lately. Feels good to get this one out.
  Sep 2014 Marian
nivek
nobody can put a face to a blank circle
except its not a blank circle to me
This is me, Nivek, take, or leave me
But do not pretend that I do not inspire
some of you, time, and time, again,
because its in the words, you claim, as poetry,
your own, poetry
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