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 May 2016 Stefan Michener
Polar
Sometimes we try to recreate heaven on earth

Making gardens

Inventing shortcuts

Discovering secrets in and out

Looking through our numerous paths

Trying desperately to find

The perfect one

But this isn't the way to do things

Follow a straight line

If it is struggling

Find footsteps to forever follow

For eternity will you have guidance

Across the path

Unfortunately what goes up

Must come down

If you hurry

Then you are likely to trip over

Your own feet

Just remember

That shortcuts may be harmful

Never forget these words

Move slowly

And good will follow

Playing it safe will be your motto.
By Matt aged 11
 May 2016 Stefan Michener
niamh
For tears that fall
On hollow cheeks
When the weeks feel like years
And the years feel like weeks.

And you sit by a grave
Where the roses grow
But the rose that you seek
Is buried below.

You have my heart
Heavy with sorrow
For the velvet rose
With no tomorrow.
Absolutely over the moon (if a little shocked) to see that this piece made the daily.  Thank you all so much for your comments - I promise to reply to you all individually at some point soon.  It was an extremely emotional, difficult, but ultimately cathartic write. Dedicated to our wee Shane, who we will never forget ***
If i'm a sunflower
You are my sun
Your warmth & light enlightens me
& Bestows energy to my soul
When you rise up
I always turn to see your face
When you come to me in the morning
I really start growing,my darling
When you come to me in the noon
Floating,tossing & dancing in front of you
When your rays kiss me
I bow down my head and shy
When your brightness hugs me
I happily move and bloom
When your light shades
By God my face fades
When you hide behind the clouds
My crying voice louds
When you become sad
I also feel so bad
When in the evening you show red light
Me turn pale,old & lose my sight
When you go away to home
My loneliness starts killing me
When you say good bye
I finally wither,fall & die

By shaffu ....
Shaffu@ 9/5/2016
 May 2016 Stefan Michener
Tupelo
The clouds grew heavy
Their bellies swollen with rain water
They stared at me as I glared back,
My gaze split the sky like a knife
It poured for days.
    
   *  I was a mess,
     I was soaked,
     I was a sponge.*

I tried to ring out all the excess,
All it did was leave me drowning in a puddle
of the parts of myself I no longer needed,
My air tanks ran dry
My body felt heavy
I was sinking for years.
It was hard for me to watch the ones I loved
lowered 6 feet beneath the soil,
It was even harder to look in the mirror
and see a breathing corpse stare back,
My insides were withered like the winter,
All I craved was the heat,
The south was a distant memory,
Fluttered away so many years ago
on a night with the full of the moon and the big of the sky
The sweet song of the willow in the most humble of tunes,
Oh how I have grown now.
Look how these bones have changed.
this poem
is not about you

even though
your spirit is in every word
your voice sounds strong
in the halls of my mind
telling me things
I am now sure
I want to know

this poem is
about me

trying to understand
you
What of words?
If you only repeat,
and not seek of your
own.
What a waste
It is to say
I care.
How silly of me
to think you'd share.
I Can stare with you
For hours as
we lay there.
But without a care,
You whisper I'm the spare.
As your heart lies in despair,
Over a line of states.
Now I'm here with tears.
Wasting away
with silly little
Words of love.
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