Round and round we go, two and thrice in throw,
Whilst hand in hand in fairy land.
We dance and prance around the rockpool,
Until the last one cannot stand.

I lay down in that busy rockpool and finally open my heart unto the floods,
This once impregnable fortress finally lowers its rusted and seized port cullis one last time.
With the moss of ages and the barnacles uprooted and torn away it lowers its decaying  drawbridge,
To let the tide wash in and carry out on its ebb, all of its ache, sadness and regrets far out into the vastness of the ocean.

The soul and spirit is empty you see,
The heart has now been opened for the waves and tides.
There is no fire nor fuel left in the furnace,
Not even a dying ember nor spark, but only a withered rose stem which finally succumbed to the dark..

All that resides left in incredible depths, Is fine *** ash,
Only good for shovelling up and scattering on the fields to maybe start again.
And those vines of that crop which fed once in abundance will grow strong, tall, fine and straight like youthful men,
Feeding off of the nourishment of past memories.

In time when these mighty vines look back to their roots,
Their hearts will ache to find their mighty benefactor.
Once again they will return to that ancestral home,
To *** some ash and plant a striking red rose in that tended bed.

Without their knowing a buried ember disturbed is glowing,
and forgotten roots, soon shoot and expand.
To once again become the source of wisdom, the all knowing,
Soon to bring life back to this long lost forgotten land.

The ground was as dark as the sky
The ooze was growing
Every one I loved was nowhere to be seen
"Wake up wake up!!
It was a nightmare
But there was a bigger one coming
"Wake up its Monday."

By Mia -Valentine

Young friends,
both in our health and hearts.
Lets remember this day,
As we all are now.

In the years to come,
We will all be gone,
One by one.
Some of us earlier,
Some of us later.
So lets remember this day,
As we all are now,
Content and happy in each others company.

Disease, Illness or the years may ravage some of us,
Cruelly rob us of our wits, memories and senses.
To leave us unrecognisable from our former selves,
So vulnerable without our defences.
But lets remember this day,
As we all are now.
Content and happy in each others company,
While time and age may grace us on its lunar stage.

Yet a few may go on and be blessed by the years,
Knowing only good fortune and nothing of tears.
To grow old with your sweetheart and depart with your girl,
We wish you no ill will but all the luck in the world.
For lets remember this day,
As we all are now.
Content and happy in each others company,
While time and age may grace us on its lunar stage.
And our future was just a spinning die, which had not yet fallen.

The size of a nut upon an unfurled map, surrounded by serpents although it cannot be contained,
With wild springs sparse but vistas and forage in abundance, yet still the Water, Aqua, Agua or Vittae maybe attained.
Too bathe in ancient waters or sun yourself around the old gods quarters,
Perchance to visit many nearby islands, for the myths and legends which they taught us.

We lived and loved as one where both would rise or sink upon the tides,
We captured magic in a bottle and it was ours to drink and ours to rise.
I wonder lonely trodden earth in your shadow, chasing ghosts,
In our short time filled with memories in such abundance which i now feed off like fruit gently twisted and plucked from the host.

Over time you can find nourishment in the loneliest of places,
Though scant details left can no longer shape those distant faces.
A newly discovered memory washed up on those abandoned forgotten shores would become a long lost feast welcomed home,
As with any family, lover or companion which found its way back over you beaten track you once left to roam.

With joy and tribal animalistic celebrations I would dance around the fire until its dying embers,
Then greedily lift and suckle at that unexpected gift and consume that fruit from the vine as dormant sparks ignite and the mind remembers.
Its very essence would trickle out and find its way along the dead seas and ravines of my emaciated lips,
Then fall and pool unto the ground in its abundance.

As if a withered oak finds its bark stripped from its core from countless seasons,
Hold on.
And if you have to wither yourself and recede into those dark cold crevices, devoid of reason,
Hold on.
For in countless ages to pass you may wake again, venture out, set roots and flower once more in all your glory.
Innocent and happy in your tiny world your building at the heart and start of your new infant story.

Where do we go our tired bones,
When we shed ourselves of mortal robes.
Without past burdens we are free to roam,
And ponder on our returning home.

I have been to where the monsters dwell,
I have seen their twisted faces in a place known as hell.
When all of your nightmares, correct now reside,
I was cast and washed up on an unchartered tide.
I have been to rock bottom and seen the other side.

Pushed my head through its wall with the last strength I could muster,
From my hands to my neck pushed with all of my bluster.
Violently wriggled and pulled myself through,
like a new born pupae on a ****** Spring dew.

As I laid there exhausted in the new morning sun,
I witnessed heaven and nature merge into one.
Colours more vivid and sounds filled with splendour,
I then witnessed God's awe in a moment so tender.

I now walk on alone with this wondrous gift,
And when others see problems.
I look up and can see the heavens shift,
For I thought I was cursed, but was given a gift.