Please attend next month's meeting.
Love to see,meet,and hear you.

She listened as her eyes were going to close.
She longed to listen and see her fellow poets.
The New York soul needed to say Goodnight.
The City never sleeps but she does
Her pens and notebooks at her side on the night table
Pleasant dreams HP til next month

A live once lived, once lost, once gone
Eyes forever closed, keys to everywhere
The heart, the pain, the memories
Forever lost with the keys

A lot of sand, earth, and mud
Burying the grave, the silence tossed
The pain, the loss, the blood
Emotions not yet ready to be crossed

As the day broke,
I took a walk through
the trail in a forest.
The golden rays of the sun
penetrated through the thick canopies.
The soft sound of a cascading brook,
broke the silence of tranquility.
A little walk downwards,
as I followed the sound,
I found
a beautiful waterfall in all its glory
as if it had been waiting for me,
a beautiful, serene picture
to capture in memory.

Enjoy the rise, the fall follows,                                                         ­                                     
                                                                ­                                            
 joined by sighs, that come
tomorrow                                                         ­                                 
                               ­                                                                 ­                        
In the limelight, the sun
shines                                                          ­                                                     
   In the twilight, stains of red wine                                                             ­                           
                                                                ­                                            
Beauty fades, just like real love                                                            
­                                                                 ­                                             
When we age, we see what we're made of                                                        
                                                                ­                                        
Children grow, if you let them,                                                            ­                    
                                            ­                                                            
Children know, what we teach them                                                             ­ 
                                                                ­                                                
Like the ebb and tide, and seasons changing,                                                  
                                                                ­                                      
everything in life is always rearranging

Beating
Like a host
Turned heart
During
Transubstantiation
Spirit
Made flesh
Made flesh
And the wine
Pulses
And pumps
Like it did through his veins
Till
Longinus
Emptied the water out
Obvious now
What it was all about.