You brought gossamer ribbons
To hang down into our lives
And scented candles, all around
Dancing, flickering before our eyes.
You sang lovely melodies to us
That I never had heard before.
Somehow just being yourself seemed
That you were a master’s painting
Done by some ancient admired guy.
Sometimes you left me almost fainting.

You urged us to explore and seek
New vistas and scenes near our home
And celebrate the people and places
We would discover when we roamed.
You caused this old stick in the mud
To become a wider wandering soul.
I’m fairly certain that was your plan,
Your vision, your wish and your goal.

It worked, I changed and became
A new and different kind of person.
I dance and celebrate life today
Dancing in life's gossamer ribbons.
It’s almost like watching a movie
That has won all the best acclaim.
You’re gone now, but I still dance
But I admit it’s just not the same.

It's not your fault
You didn't know
What you meant to me
But know that you do
What's that thought on your mind?
Has it changed?

Shedding

I'm shedding you see.
Soon you will not recognize me.
There are many changes,
I used to flee.
But now I am free.
Redecorated the old me.
I'm shedding you see.
Wait til you see the new me.

Lori Mack
5/19/18

The heat feels great but it's scorching my heart.
The cold clenches my brain yet I can still feel the pain

What happened to the flowers that bloomed all through the summer?
What happened to our weather?

Is this for the better that the seasons change this way?
Is today the day the leaves decay?

I just want them to stay.
Please don't take my sunshine away
God have it your way but let it pass today so I can sleep on the leaves one last time.

life is moving
can't you see?
there's no future left
for you and me

i am changing
i am gone
i am older
and yes,
I'm moving on

i was holding on
searching endlessly
now there's nothing
i can do

so dont be blue
there's another future
waiting there
for you

yes im changing
can't stop it now
and even if i wanted
i would not know how

if you don't think its a crime
you can come along,
with me

I can be so **** fickle.
Get into situations that end so sour.
Sweet memories turn bitter.
Always craving to be forever green,
but then fear any routine.
Changing my flavor so fast like I've been pickled.
And now I’m an acquired taste.
I like it, but I know not many do
and most importantly you.
For you, vinegar reeked of betrayal.
I always knew you hated pickles.
Now you cannot stand the sight of me.

Change is a strange thing
The stop lights, the people, the wrinkles on your skin
How do you stop it
The hair on your scalp, the fade of your eyes, your heart
How do you make it stop
The love who you thought was your life, how you love, the way you think
How do you not change

You can control love,
as you type.
You can change the style,
which evokes feeling.
Script — curvy lines,
fitting for passion.
Sans Serif — Strong,
but friendly.
Grunge — Anger or,
vengeful.
Serif — Elegant,
and structured.
This four letter word —
is a shapeshifter.
Shifting styles, weights and
kerning on a whim.
You can control love,
highlight and change it.
Again.

But, love is fluid,
as fonts are to typographers,
as words are to poets.