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He is two -
Like a vinyl record--
he has an 'A' side
and a 'B' side;
guess which one
I love to listen to,
on repeat,
over,
and over,
again?

He is two -
Like cuttlery--
A knife
and a fork -
one is sharp
and cuts deep,
and one picks me up;
guess which one
I love to spoon?

He is two -
Both,
the sun,
and the moon;
and I,
... well,
I was doomed
from the beginning,
just like a shooting star;
guess which one
I fell for?

By Lady R.F. (C)2017
When you feel
like you want to scream,
or run away,
like you want to disappear,
or when you feel completely lost,
all you really want is to be found.

By Lady R.F. (C)2017
Home,
To me,
Is not a house
Made of bricks and mortar.
Rather,
It is found
In certain people -
It is a body,
A mind,
And a soul
With a beating heart.

Home,
To me,
Is found
Within the serenity
And tranquility
Of solitude--with nature.
It is an overwhelming feeling
That from such a person or place,
I never want
To be torn apart.

~ Home is where the heart is. ❤

By Lady R.F. (C)2017
 Nov 2017 Mike Hauser
ryn
Hard Fall
 Nov 2017 Mike Hauser
ryn
Falling...

That’s the easy part.
It’s beyond your control really.
Like a mat being pulled from under you.
Or tripping over something as obscure as a centimetre rise on the pavement.

And as you fall, you can’t deny the excitement and exhilaration as your heart quickens.
Adrenalin courses through your system in a feeble attempt to heighten your reflexes and realign your senses...

Just so you could perhaps stop yourself from getting hurt.

But you also know that you can’t fight the laws of physics and the fact that you’re not a cat.
So you can’t help but submit fully to that moment of defeat.

Now you’ve slammed into the ground.
Tasted dirt...
And rubbed faces, knees and elbows with the harshness of the earth.

If you do get up,
would you be ever so careless again?




I’d watch where I was going if I were you.
Before it was ever broken
I'd give to you my word,
so clear and legible on the page
but now the lines are blurred.

Before it was ever broken
I'd give to you my dreams,
but the fantasy that we had woven
was tearing at the seams.

Before it was ever broken
I'd give to you my trust,
but the knives we held into our backs
were begging us to ******.

Before it was ever broken
I'd give to you my chain,
but the bonds have since come apart
left rusting in the rain;

and even though we're broken
I'd still go back to the start,
when before it was ever broken
I'd give to you my heart.
A pristine stained-glass heart
is all I see

when magnified through the lens
of your sympathetic tears.
Written for a friend
I remember being a young boy
who was afraid of stormy days,
I knew that a sudden gust of wind
could come and take you away.

I promised that I would never let go
and to keep you within my sight,
but I didn't give you the freedom to soar
and often pulled too tight;

so one autumn day, you broke away,
I stood outside until spring,
but the boy who went out that windy day
became a man holding onto a string.
Heartbreak is only
the time that exists between
two eras of love.
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