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Grace James Aug 2020
Somewhere beyond the deep
is a place to which I journey
when I am asleep.

This place is neither cold nor hot,
big nor small,
near nor far,
beneath the stars.

It is a place to which I go
when I must run far, far away.
Far, far away.

Away from the circus,
away from the fear.
Away from the chaos,
away from the tears.

This place is my beckoning,
my caller, my finder.
My reminder that everything is alright
in the end.

My haven.
My truest and dearest friend.

The house by the lake
was nestled among the woods.
A crack in the winding road,
red and white and quiet.

Its windows reflected
the sparkling stream.
Like crystals dancing
in the midst of a dream.

The sounds are loud and soft
all at once.
Chickens, rowers, fishermen.
Silence, wind, sunlight
lapping at the shore.

I close my eyes to see it now.
How bright it is in my mind's eye.
Hello, my friend.
I'll be back again.

With water so blue,
the lake I knew.
girl Mar 2015
coffee at 12 makes me sane
the smell of summer morning and flames
memoirs of our lake house days
leaves me at daze
the stolen rusty car and broken seats
ceaseless honking and credulous children
that halt I never want to leave
Those were the long gone days
You were a long gone day
The past, which would never return
But the past memory that will stay

— The End —