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Grey 1d
As sleep overcomes me,
my unsteady hands loosen their grip on the locket
and it slides through my fingers
and falls to the ground.
Tatiana 1d
I run along the tops of trees
branches catch then drop me to my knees.
And I fall like leaves.
Spiraling down in Autumn's breeze.

I'm under attack in my own canopy.
What do I lack to keep scars from me?
I've fallen from heights I've grown used to.
I swallow my pride to avoid my doom.

I'm not like the pines; no longevity.
Like leaves I pile on the severity.
No levity is brought to my shaking knees.
When did Autumn become heavy?
marion 2d
it’s so crazy how you can think everything is fine one second, but then the next second, everything falls apart.
Autumn leaves
But not her leaves
Where she lies

Beneath the ribs
She roots her trees
Deeper than the skies
And deeper yet
And deeper still
Than the living chains
Of freedom

Perched upon the windowsill
Her eyes tow wings
Whose whispers sing
The name of her reverie
Тръгва есента
Но не и нейните листа
Където е останала

Изпод ребра
Вкоренила дърветата
По-дълбоко от небето
И все повече
И още по-...
От живите вериги
На свободата

Накацали перваза
Очите ѝ теглят крила
Чийто шепот напява
Името на нейния блян
Arden 5d
sometimes I can't get words out of my mouth
sometimes I can't make my limbs move

no matter how much I yell at myself
to just say something nothing happens
no matter how much I try to convince my brain
to make my arm move nothing happens

I don't know how many hours I have spent standing
unable to move
until I fall to the ground
Red leaves on vines
Curling waves peaking high
Mountain cliff crevasse seemingly

    Gentle sway against the air
   Falling rolling into itself
  End unknown
The fall seemingly

Grasp grasp onto the tree
Roll roll into the sea
  Gape gape around the emptiness
   Keep keep your mind at ease

Stay awake stay awake
'What else should I do?'
Stay awake stay awake
Take a picture of the view

Don't fall asleep
Keep falling
Just don't land
I'd dreamt of Moshe's fall
In the arid land of Kadesh
And I wondered; how sweet
were those waters of Meribah?

Then, I woke up from sleeping
and was greeted by a nightmare

Rising under an Ethiopian cloud
The Grandiose Renaissance
To tame the mighty blue Nile
To free the wild hearts of men

How I pray tensions fall
In the fertile lands of Africa
as I ponder; how sweet
are these waters of Meribah?
by Michael R. Burch

The rose of love's bright promise
lies torn by her own thorn;
her scent was sweet
but at her feet
the pallid aphids mourn.

The lilac of devotion
has felt the winter ****
and shed her dress;
she shivers—****, forlorn.

Published by Songs of Innocence, The Aurorean, Contemporary Rhyme and The HyperTexts


Roses for a Lover, Idealized
by Michael R. Burch

When you have become to me
as roses bloom, in memory,
exquisite, each sharp thorn forgot,
will I recall—yours made me bleed?

When winter makes me think of you—
whorls petrified in frozen dew,
bright promises blithe spring forsook,
will I recall your words—barbed, cruel?

Published by The Lyric, La Luce Che Non Moure (Italy), The Chained Muse, Better Than Starbucks, Glass Facets of Poetry and Trinacria


The Donald Trumps the White House Roses
by Michael R. Burch

Roses are red,
Daffodils are yellow,
But not half as daffy
As that taffy-colored fellow.


Isolde’s Song
by Michael R. Burch

According to legend, Isolde and Tristram/Tristan were lovers who died, were buried close to each other, then reunited in the form of plants growing out of their graves. A rose emerged from Isolde's grave, a vine from Tristram's, then the two became one. Tristram was the Celtic Orpheus, a minstrel whose songs set women and even nature a-flutter.

Through our long years of dreaming to be one
we grew toward an enigmatic light
that gently warmed our tendrils. Was it sun?
We had no eyes to tell; we loved despite
the lack of all sensation—all but one:
we felt the night’s deep chill, the air so bright
at dawn we quivered limply, overcome.
To touch was all we knew, and how to bask.
We knew to touch; we grew to touch; we felt
spring’s urgency, midsummer’s heat, fall’s lash,
wild winter’s ice and thaw and fervent melt.
We felt returning light and could not ask
its meaning, or if something was withheld
more glorious. To touch seemed life’s great task.
At last the petal of me learned: unfold
and you were there, surrounding me. We touched.
The curious golden pollens! Ah, we touched,
and learned to cling and, finally, to hold.

Originally published by The Raintown Review and nominated for the Pushcart Prize; since published by Ancient Heart Magazine (Australia), The Eclectic Muse (Canada), Boston Poetry Magazine, The Orchards Poetry Journal, Strange Road, On the Road with Judy, Complete Classics, FreeXpression (Australia), Better Than Starbucks, Fullosia Press, Glass Facets of Poetry, Sonnetto Poesia (Canada), The New Formalist and Trinacria


Will There Be Starlight
by Michael R. Burch

Will there be starlight
while she gathers
and lilac
and sweet-scented heathers?

And will she find flowers,
or will she find thorns
guarding the petals
of roses unborn?

Will there be starlight
while she gathers
and mussels
and albatross feathers?

And will she find treasure
or will she find pain
at the end of this rainbow
of moonlight on rain?

Published by Grassroots Poetry, Poetry Webring, TALESetc, The Word (UK), Writ in Water, Jenion, Inspirational Stories, Famous Poets and Poems


She Gathered Lilacs
by Michael R. Burch

for Beth

She gathered lilacs
and arrayed them in her hair;
tonight, she taught the wind to be free.

She kept her secrets
in a silver locket;
her companions were starlight and mystery.

She danced all night
to the beat of her heart;
with her tears she imbued the sea.

She hid her despair
in a crystal jar,
and never revealed it to me.

She kept her distance
as though it were armor;
gauntlet thorns guard her heart like the rose.

Love!—awaken, awaken
to see what you’ve taken
is still less than the due my heart owes!

Published by The Neovictorian/Cochlea, The Eclectic Muse (Canada), Shabestaneh (Iran), Anthology of Contemporary American Poetry, The Chained Muse, Inspirational Stories and Captivating Poetry (Anthology)


Auschwitz Rose
by Michael R. Burch

There is a Rose at Auschwitz, in the briar,
a rose like Sharon's, lovely as her name.
The world forgot her, and is not the same.
I still love her and extend this sacred fire
to keep her memory exalted flame
unmolested by the thistles and the nettles.

On Auschwitz now the reddening sunset settles!
They sleep alike—diminutive and tall,
the innocent, the "surgeons." Sleeping, all.
Red oxides of her blood, bright crimson petals,
if accidents of coloration, gall
my heart no less. Amid thick weeds and muck
there lies a rose man's crackling lightning struck:
the only Rose I ever longed to pluck.
Soon I'll bed there and bid the world "Good Luck."

Keywords/Tags: rose, roses, thorn, thorns, lilac, lilacs, spring, summer, fall, winter, seasons
Maja May 19
People don't know when the crack in the ground starts.
They only know when it breaks and they fall.
Love isn’t meant to be a heavy thing.

Yet every time I fall it seems to crush me.

And all of a sudden, I was beginning to lose my breath and the room was spinning.

But then again, maybe it wasn’t love I was falling into, just the suffering in your eyes and the way you held yourself throughout the lonely nights.
This poem is about falling in love with someone, but it is not what you expected. You think you’re falling in love with them, but you’re falling in love with their toxic ways. Leave a comment for feedback and enjoy reading.❤️❤️
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