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She blew in
A Gayle force wind
Far more of a lover
Than ever a friend

Young storms never quiet
With thoughts that we might
Ride it all out together
In 75'

But as weather would have it
Winds blow this way and that
So that what really mattered
Changed up in its pattern

With the pouring of time
Flooding forgotten streets
Like cars, years passed us by
Splashing tears at our feet
Went walking in the high woods this morning
A light dusting of overnight snow glinting in the sunlight
Like a million perfect diamonds
Over to my right dense forest with barely a track seen
I will save that place for later in the year when
For a few days and nights it will become my refuge
I love such places, clean fresh air and a cold breeze blowing
Very few other people here , to early for them
Such a perfect setting to start the day
Life can change in a hiccup,
So don't give up,
Have hope.
No matter what,you can always cope,
Don't live in the dark,
Self pity is not the right track,
Do what you can to get what your heart desires,
And do it with integrity.
When darkness descends
And doubts fill your mind
Love will always prevail
I sat by the dying embers of my campfire
as night descended
And became as one with the darkness
Here I can find peace
surrounded by the sounds of the night
The hoots and whistles of hunting owls, scratching and
scrabbling of animals unknown
and the plaintiff cry of the distant fox.
This is the time to sit and think of the future,
and to see distant memories written in the canopy of stars.
Here in this place I can reflect on things I have done
Consider the paths I want to follow
The darkness is my place, my sanctuary
A place to be free
I love the peace and solitude that the dark of night can bring when alone in the woods
Just been going through my poetry
As I'm sure many of you do
And noticed something different
Now so many empty spaces
Where I once saw prophile faces
WHY?
Where have they gone,
why did they leave?
The ones we called our friends
Those who once might have wielded swords
But chose to wield the pen
Now so many empty spaces
Where once were prophile faces
So many gifted writers are leaving us
Is in the taunt string and the bow
Sitting quietly with anticipation
Between recognition and the know
The strength of the aim
The tremble of loves arrows flow

The art of Death
Is in the curve of the wood
The polish of the shine
Intent accepted and understood

The art of death
The power of man
Five fingers taunt
A deep breath
The release from cold hands

Unsuspecting quarry was struck
Continuous practice of a cynical eye
Dull emotions of satisfaction
Fleeting moments of regret
A small sigh

The art of death
Is in the taunt string and the bow
Waiting quietly
Between the recognition and the know

Copyright Infringement laws
Section 512(c)(3) of the U.S. Copyright
Act, 17 U.S.C. S512(c)(3), Tammy M Darby  3/4/2016
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