Poems are making me sad.

Every word pierces me,
and every sentence
rearranges itself
and spells your name.

Poems are making me sad,
but you are making me sadder.

In the driest times of my life.

When the days were young
and the skies were clear,
You stood at the midst
of grassless plains and soulless trails,
of footprints made by one
who had none at all
but his void of a heart.
Sick, depressed;
waiting for his demise,
his very own destruction.

but,

You were like rain pouring
to quench a desert's thirst.

You were like wind blowing
upon still and quiet pastures.

You were like fire burning,
consuming until nothing -
was none at all.

You were something.

until

Your winds blew harder
and Your sails grew wider;
until the shine in Your eyes
could be seen no more.

I grew weary,
tired of being a vessel so empty.

I could not run away,
because at every end —
and at every stop —

I would always find myself
wanting for more of You.

I may not be your destination,
but I know that You are mine.

I will always find myself
coming back to You.


The dreamer dreams
of nightmares too
of visions,  so clear
so bright and blue
But we always know
that dreams end too
too late to say that—

I Love You.

not mine, it is hers
and she is gone now.

She took me in
I took care of her and she taught
me how to love unconditionally.

Now in her chair I sit sad and uncomfortable.
Around me surrounds a heavy air.
A memory of our last saying,
I love you.

I made a promise to her, on her dying day,
to take care of RJ and Wally ,
Miss kitty, Mandy, Trouble, Blinky, Inky, Nod,
and two more grey kittys.

I will try, Marge. With all my heart.

I know they miss you.

But, not half as much as I do.

she roamed in the pale moon light
only so no one noticed the physical scars
that bandaged her broken heart

Falling  leaves,  
a  gentle  shroud  
of  smouldering  fire,
stirring  pallets of colour
upon  the  face  of  the  earth.

Sprinkle  drops  of  honey  upon  the  forehead  of  her  beauty,
Lay  upon  her  pale  skin  the  velvet  blue  of  night.
Night,  breathing  the  sweetness  of  her joyful  voice,
Night  setting  alight  with  the  sparkles  in  her  eyes.

Streak  her  hair  softly  with  the  gleam  of  the  moon,
Carry  her  feet  over  shiny  black  pebbles,
Round  and  smooth,  in  numerous  existence,
Guiding  her steps, as she moves across the riverbed.