A flower blooms to die
as do you
and
I

Thirsty lips now dry and cracked
know all too well the waters lacked

though laced with salt
and sometimes
sweet

without your mouth mines incomplete

no sweet goodbyes no gentle peck
no tender touch upon my neck

no mouthing words
one cannot speak
or passionate breaths
that leave
One

weak

no more to take away thy breath
or share those moments of sweet death
when too afraid
the kiss
May end
or night no more
her soft light
lend

when lover's part it is that kiss
that closeness that true lover's miss
but we have said
our last
aduei

and how I miss
your kiss

and

you.

If you can't see beyond the scars...



leave my space.

By weathered tree  the lover stood
and carved his lover's name
and with same knife he spilt his blood
the night she never came

By weathered tree the lover cried
and broke her gentle heart
for love he'd  lived and love he'd  died
for fate kept them apart

By weathered tree two lovers lay
within a floral bed
and it is said up to this day
the heart he carved once bled

By weathered tree were lover's wend
to promise each their hearts
for once where love was thought to end
in fact was where love starts.

Like a broken watch
you lay there...

your unpainted face

slightly obscured
by two small

unmoving

hands,

and yet my love
this
is the time
I long for

for whom needs sleep
when such visions
of beauty

are freely found beyond

such dreams
as
twilight brings

so sweet be thy rest
as I upon bended
arm

watch on.

Love me as I am
cracked and broken
learn
to see beyond
the painted porcelain smile
and the vacant
yet
laughing eyes...

try to see
that it's a mere facade
a little white lie
only meant to protect your heart

from mine...

for how could I inflict upon one so gentle

such pain

how could I let such eyes see my true

ugly self

That like the troll lives in darkness
dreaming of the day

a kiss

Will free him from this prison
of self doubt
and
self hate

could you be my princess

or are happy endings only true

In

Faery Tales.

Morning rips forth
screaming...

from the womb of night

it's first cries echoed
in bird song
and
buzz of insects wings,

it's tears adorning spiders web
and yet un woken
floral heads

Mother Earth
adopting Midwives role...

holds
up the sun

letting his gentleness
of breath

become the welcome breeze
that carries soft

his

first word.