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 Apr 2015 Shannen Bremner
April
The most beautiful thing about her
wasn't
her eyes a shade of dark blue,
her auburn hair that met her shoulders,
or even the smile that traced her lips in the darkest nights

Her beauty was in
the steady rise and fall of her chest
as her lungs breathed in and out

every second
she lived with a gentle grace
that even the lull of the analog clock
couldn't compare

At some point she became all I could relate
happiness to

and when I lost her
I mourned
through my sadness,
my confusion

I realized my world
now dark and dreary
lost its sense of beauty
Honestly I was sitting down and had my hand over my chest and I started thinking about how our hearts beat making our chest rise and fall.. and well that's what inspired this aha
Wine comes in at the mouth
And love comes in at the eye;
That's all we shall know for truth
Before we grow old and die.
I lift the glass to my mouth,
I look at you, and I sigh.
Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on that sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Would you miss me
if I was no longer here
would you notice I was missing
would you even shed a tear

Would you think back
to all the things you never said
would you find time to write that letter
would you wish it had been read

Would you follow me
or try to find out where I'd gone
would you wish you'd made the effort
would you admit you got it wrong

Would you wish now
that you'd decided not to wait
Would you read this in the future
and curse you were too late?
Follow me on Twitter @athomashawkins
http://twitter.com/athomashawkins
This man and this girl.
Impossible, they all chant.
That's what makes it love.
My second shot at haiku.

This poem was written November 30, 2011
It was many and many a year ago,
  In a kingdom by the sea,
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
  By the name of ANNABEL LEE;
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
  Than to love and be loved by me.

I was a child and she was a child,
  In this kingdom by the sea:
But we loved with a love that was more than love—
  I and my ANNABEL LEE;
With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven
  Coveted her and me.

And this was the reason that, long ago,
  In this kingdom by the sea,
A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling
  My beautiful ANNABEL LEE;
So that her highborn kinsmen came
  And bore her away from me,
To shut her up in a sepulchre
  In this kingdom by the sea.

The angels, not half so happy in heaven,
  Went envying her and me—
Yes!—that was the reason (as all men know,
  In this kingdom by the sea)
That the wind came out of the cloud by night,
  Chilling and killing my ANNABEL LEE.

But our love it was stronger by far than the love
  Of those who were older than we—
  Of many far wiser than we—
And neither the angels in heaven above,
  Nor the demons down under the sea,
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
  Of the beautiful ANNABEL LEE.

For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams
  Of the beautiful ANNABEL LEE;
And the stars never rise but I see the bright eyes
  Of the beautiful ANNABEL LEE;
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
Of my darling, my darling, my life and my bride,
  In her sepulchre there by the sea—
  In her tomb by the side of the sea.
I can’t figure how the thought of her
Creeps into my mind
A smile like the crescent moon
And eyes reflecting only mine.
I can’t hear the words she speaks
Because I’m too enamored with her glow
The beauty of her resonance
Is all I’ll ever need to know.

I bet her kiss is like the stars
Too great to truly fathom
But when lips touch, they’ll spark
Creating a universe you can’t imagine.

Every night I dream  -
Of our hands becoming one
When all the fingers intertwine
Leaving only thumbs,
To twiddle lightly – playfully
Like they were meant for nothing more
Time is the only opposition
Of this unbeknownst thumb war.

I bet her love is like the universe
Greater than I could ever imagine
Because when we kissed, it sparked
Truly too great to ever fathom.
not 100% finished at the moment. but I like how it is now...
I don't remember, any more,
The exact shape of your hands
As I held them in mine,
Caressed them,
Memorized the length of your fingers,
The depth of your calluses.

I don't remember, any more,
Exactly your height, how much
Taller than me
You were, where
My head rested on your chest
When you held me tightly close.

I don't remember, any more,
Your scent, when we lay together
Creating our own
Magic rhythm,
Matching our heartbeats as we
Touched the sky, together.

I don't remember, any more,
The sound of your voice, calling
My name as though
It were a song
Within itself, a precious treasure
You valued with all your being.

And I don't remember, any more,
The color of your eyes, the shape
Of your lips,
Only...
How your eyes crinkled at the corners
And your laugh, as you told me,

"I love you."
Copyright by Ash L. Bennett, 2011

— The End —