Just another ruled notebook,
with pretty white blank pages,
soon to be destroyed by
pathetic sentences
and poems and rhymes
that make no sense.

Just another hard covered notebook
waiting to be kissed by ink
torn by paint brushes
drowned in spilt tea.

This is a brand new notebook
So neat and clean
anticipating
the countless number of pages
covered in poorly drawn
pirate stick figures.

*******, Cupid,
For striking me so deep.
*******,
For giving me something,
I thought I’d be able to keep.

Psssst are you still down there
as I check to see if there is still a beat

I know I haven't paid much attention to you lately
but its time to get up and not feel this defeat

I promise from now on I will better nourish you
Just needed some time not to feel and think things through

So after many months of not feeling
it has all finally came to an end
Me and my heart can now again be friends

In some ways I guess it was good that after so long
my heart could still feel such ache
But next time (if there is a next time) I think I will
choose for it not to break

By the shore there is a table
Old and rickety, to hold much 'tis not able
Upon that table is a glass of wine
Delicate, beautiful, its contents fine.
But the shore is cruel to the fragile little glass
For it sends terrible storms that pass
Over the table, the wind makes it sway
Taunting the glass, O cruel bay!
The slightest of touch will make it shatter,
Yet the shore sends the rain that comes a pitter-patter
The cup over floweth, fine contents spilled
The poor crystal seems to cry as 'tis overfilled.
This delicate glass will fall at a touch
Why must the table sway so much?
Yet all it needs is a firm hand
To secure the table to a stable stand.
Little wineglass, where is your help?
A little security is all you need.

On old world wings you've come
through ages gracing wilds
In gardens you hover, humming hawk moth
seemingly like a bird
On beating wings you sing to honeyed flower stalks
a proboscis long for drinking up
phlox and penstemon