One insane, and two to be
I love you on this road
And the one next to me

Hand in hand, reaching out
Just a gentle touch, two tips to brush,
Will we ever meet, I wonder

Wearer with no questions to ask,
Three spins, yours, mine, and once a thought
Surely this is more than that

All textures are laid out of me
Cold veil of shame and a fear of losing you
For once to make a decisive look

Receiving and ending, you, a ghostly you
Vacillating soul of no ponder
Leaves a floating trail and others to wonder.

its boughs, so large and heavy
but its leaves lean to the wind
just as sadness marches steady,
to the beat one’s starts to sing

winds that cause the willow branch to groan,
pluck like harp strings, dry and rustling leaves
who speak of rope- over them thrown
when a weight should come to pull them,
it is not exactly known

life starts with hope,
and from there, the path is forked

life either dies with the sunset,
or sees the moon in panicked fraught

trees end in branches,
and on those branches tied-
are braids that end in knots

such as the willow, knows in its heart
those who come and see, afar
hides the body hanging from it
with its leaves and broken heart

Temporary , a word full of hopes but only contemporary. feeling every second like its just that scary.  Beware thee , senses have found a place to create a obituary . Scary , as dark turns to grey in my world of fairies . Below the lair's key lies beneath everything we perceive. What you say isn't the truth to me . Cause the truth lies within the seed that created the tree .

If you love someone you suffer in silence

Want someone you care for to live free of the pain that is harming you

Close in walls to keep them safe from your fires

Life is then never given the chance to twist them the way it twisted you

Let that person stay out of danger's way
They are better off lightyears away

Help, friend!
Please, just make this brutal cycle end!
Let me finally transcend
this reality we comprehend
as a futile means to a futile end.

A chaste & lovely maiden
Loved a roughhewn sort of man
It was a strange attraction
The folk could never understand
But she lived in a great tower
In a foreign land.

The lad traversed the valleys
The tangled briars low
Great and craggy mountains
Replete with ice and snow
He knew that he must find her
But did not know where to go.

He questioned people far & wide
Of how to find the lass
Finally an old woman
Told him true at last
But guardians of gargoyles
Would let no one pass!

They would ask a riddle
That he would have to tell
What was found in plenty
At the bottom of a well
If he couldn't answer
They'd take him straight to hell!

The rough young man, he pondered
Yes, he was perplexed
He had no ready answer
Didn't know what to do next
He did not know the answer
And he was so sore vexed!

But a gentle voice he told him
Just like a tender kiss
What resides within a well
Is always a great wish.

So the lad, he faced his foe
So bold in his youth
His answer confounded them
Because it was the TRUTH.

He found the modest maiden
Straight away they wed
They had been kept apart
But had higher love instead!

The moral of this fable
Is the greatest wish in you
Should NOT BE GIVEN UP ON...

... FOR THEY MAY COME TRUE.

Catherine Jarvis
October 23, 2020