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 May 2018 PM
PoserPersona
'Twas a time I deemed thee love;
  the echoes lacked contraire
Sea moon shadows dance across
  this isle of despair

Entwined flesh eyes doth ne'er perceive,
  outside the mortal's scope
No sole charter giveth passage
  through salty waves unknown

'Tis what I think to see thee there
  on pedestals of gold
Forevermore you place thyself
  on stalwart shores alone

Unfurl thy sails for distant lands;
  the lighthouse shines once more
Praying to gods that long lost ship
  will find its way to port.
 May 2018 PM
MaryJane Doe
In the garden of Eden
The creation forgot
Picking off the pedals
Of the last forget me not
He loves me
He loves me not
He loves me
Has he forgot?
He loves me
Please
Forget me not
 May 2018 PM
Mary-Eliz
In paradisum
deducant te Angeli


our young voices
sang out sweetly
sounding
like the angels
we invoked

"May the Angels lead you to paradise"

my heart cracked
a little more each time

it was supposed to be an honor
to sing the funeral mass
but amidst sad and lovely music
I heard the crying
felt the grief

from the choir loft you could hear them
sobbing down below
as the priest's solemn chanting
echoed all around

you could see the casket
near the altar
adorned in purple
draped in black

you could smell
the burning candles,
the incense
and the flowers

once when I heard a child cry
it was more than I could take
my tears flowed with the mourners
I was choked
and couldn't sing

all the pain I could imagine,
all anguish
and despair
crept in and
fully broke

what had been merely cracks

from then I never found the music
lovely

so much more than sad
it was bitter and disturbing

to a young
impressionable
mind
Catholic school...6th 7th 8th graders...some as young as ten were taken from the classroom to sing for funerals. Most kids only saw it as a lucky break from school. I grew to loathe it and dread the news of a funeral we were set to sing. Each time added to a pit of indescribable grief inside me. Grief I didn't know what to do with!
 May 2018 PM
Cello Girl
The Forest
 May 2018 PM
Cello Girl
Deep in the forest,
The dark green forest,
Where the trees sway
In the lively breath of wind,
Their marshmallow heads
Dancing,

Where it is afloat and aflutter
With birdsong,
And the chirps of the playful creek,
The steady burbling of unbridled joy,

Where beauty grows on trees,
In pinks and purples and pollen
In fur and feathers,
In the earth,

There is a pond,
A polished mirror laid gently
On the dewy grass.
An echo of the strokes
Of a child’s painting,
In the sky.
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