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I'll burn down this house of poems
and all the authors
out on loan

Make no plans about your book
your words turn
to ash and soot

Burn down this hall of rhyme
you have better things to do
so don't you be a waste of time

Watch the roar that will consume
your phony dreams
your pipe smoke fumes

Hear the binders snap and pop
every stanza
all that rot

Think of what you could have done
if all those letters
could be unrung

Watch the floors collapse in pain
these ruins remain hot
until the rain

Now get on about your way
and don't twice
about someday

And for all it's shame
let it burn down
Burn baby burn
in purifying flame
Pass me my pen,
I'm ready to start writing again,

I need to express myself,
It's time to take my heart off the shelf.

Give me a few moments of time,
My soul needs to release a new rhyme,

Let me breathe again,
It's been too long,  I haven't written since this morning, at half past ten.

By Lady R.F. (C)2017
Hope this makes you smile!
You and I -
Are like a flower
And a bee
Like a dancing leaf
On a rain fed tree
Like golden sands
And waves in the bay
Like a float of clouds
On a summer day

I am the icing
You are the cake
I am the spice
You're the marinade
I am the biscuit
You are the tea
I am the butter
You're the patty

I am the lace
You are the shoe
I am the prop
You are the cue
I am the move
You are the twist
I am the pout
You are the kiss


I am the grooves
Within your cheek
And the dimples
That hide and seek
You are the smile
I am the giggle
You are the laughter
I am the tickle.


You and I
Make a we
Some music,
Some laughter
And poetry
Would you know the color of music
White, black or grey,
Would you know the melodies that air
What colors are they.

Would you know the notes that flow,
The hues that come your way
Are they a rainbow of colors
As many tunes as they play

A part of a larger symphony,
Man is music from His soul,
Music from His heart,
Music that should extol.

Hearts alive with rhythmic beats
Drum akin beneath the skins,
Not just where the rainbow ends,
But  where it all begins.
I walk these streets,
of which, I don't belong
Ever carrying the scent of
Death,
and vintage whisky
A visceral and demented
MayBerry hell
Still,
It is here, in which I dwell
Everyone plays their part,
Pays their bills
Me?
A mere ghost
haunting these wooded hills
A house,
I possess  
Home,
I lack
I wander
Alone
I belong no where
Everywhere
Just not here
And so.....

I wander
And belong to no one
A wanderess.......

~A
It's my birthday. It rains.....
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