Flowers
Are a reminder
That without a little rain
We wouldn't be able to bloom,

Without clouds
And a little bad weather
We wouldn't be able to smell
Their divine fragrant perfume.

Flowers
Are a reminder
That we need gloomy days
So we can highly value
The sun's radiant,
Life-powering, life-giving light,

Because without
Any form of darkness
We wouldn't appreciate
The glorious clear-blue skys
And the gift of precious daylight.

By Lady R.F. (C)2017

They don't go down easy
these words meant to soothe
they'll come back up later
with bile
churning and roiling

"asleep"?
"peaceful"?
platitudes!

"time heals"?
banality!

like the hapless frog
suspended in his jar
awaiting the curious blade
of the laboratory scholar

this unnatural heap of flesh
****** dry
then
pumped with chemicals
smeared with freakish makeup
collects the gawking stares

or the brief furtive glances

"Look!"
my mind shrieks
you came to look
but
you don't see

Memories
you say

This memory
this scene
this awkward scene
will play in my mind
like the test pattern
on old TV's

fixed there
humming its eerie monotone
in
black and white

mσσnlíght ín thє mєαdσw
cαѕtѕ thє ѕhαdσw σf thє trєєѕ
í cαtch α glimpse of ѕílvєr
αѕ thє вrαnchєѕ cαtch thє вrєєzє
thєrє'ѕ juѕt α ѕσund σf ruѕtlíng lєαvєѕ
ín ѕσlítudє í ѕtrσll
thє wσσdѕ αrє mínє thíѕ єvєníng
αѕ í plαч thє wσmαn'ѕ rσlє
pαuѕíng вч thє rívєrвαnk
thє ѕчmphσnч вєgínѕ
thє ruѕhíng wαtєr'ѕ cσuntєrpσínt
tσ lívє σαk'ѕ crєαkíng límвѕ
thє gєntlє wínd, thє tєmpσ mαkєѕ
αnd í вєgín tσ hєαr
thє rhчthm σf thє pulѕє σf lífє
αn єαrth ѕσng ín mч єαr
hσw ѕwєєt thє єvєníng ѕєєm tσ mє
αríαѕ fíll thє níght
αnd thєn thєч mαkє α chσruѕ
αѕ thє mσσn rєѕumєѕ hєr flíght
hσmєwαrd вσund, í pαuѕє αnd líѕtєn
α mєlσdч ѕσ ѕwєєt
rєgrєtfullч, thє ѕpєll íѕ gσnє
nσw, juѕt thє trαffíc'ѕ вєαt

Opal
her name was
Opal
she should have been
Aunt
Opal
but she was
just
Opal

she was bossed around
and tossed around
by our Aunt Marie

we were afraid of her
Opal, that is

though Marie was no
sweet cup of tea

afraid just because she
looked different

though later
long after she’d gone
remembering her smiling round face
and thin slanted eyes
I guess we realized

but back then, we were kids
we didn’t understand
we didn’t see her much

and they didn’t tell us a thing

not who she was
not why she was there
not even that she was kin to our dad
a sister, in fact

she didn’t seem really loved
didn’t seem cared for that much
yet she was so quiet
and
calm

I’d love to go back
I’d love the chance
to smile and look up to her eyes
then
I’d take her hand
lead her gently around
and
call her my sweet
Aunt Opal!

The slow autumn presses
at the window,
as geese give a melancholy voice
to leaving
their dark v-shape
splitting a cloudless sky

the sun spreads
a quiet space
of tangerine orange
and rosy pink
as it slips below the horizon

when darkness closes in,
stars shiver
in the distance
ghosts perhaps since
some have died

the moon’s shimmer follows
the river’s winding path
until
complacent river in lament
mingles with powerful sea

ending and beginning
combined in poignant
harmony