The bravery she thought
That she could handle
Bursted into tears that rot
Agony, a pathetic blown candle

She barely stepped in front
And shared a glance
We locked eyes that burnt
Innocence into wild stance

A strong armor to lean on
A shelter she seeked in me
I let her belief carry on
She have tamed the beast in me

The moment I realized, it was too late to act like a rebel.. Be bonded or act like it.

After years you know this:
that the course of reliable love runs
not through a slough of habit

but along a curving hillside
where even familiar landscape
offers daily surprises.

Those palms, those pine trees
outside the window, that stretch
of shoreline, this sleeping face,

so surprisingly familiar, still
catch you unawares in
a shock of recognition.

What you have done before
you do again:  you say yes.
You wake, and turn, and are thankful

to rise even from the happiest dream
into what, solid, factual, still strange,
you keep choosing.

Practice makes more deliberate
the thing you’ve done a thousand times,
each time an act of consent:

you pour the coffee
you feed the cat
you turn off the bedside lamp,

loving the simple labors
of shared life, loving
the changing light, evening and morning

and the currents of dailiness that run
deep under the whitecaps
and the waves.

My child, with gentle footsteps you walk
While cruelly ticks away the mocking clock
With a heavy heart, I hide behind the cloak of courage
My child you were once, now headed for marriage

Darling, I remember when I first held you in my arms
With naive pride, I promised I will protect you from all harms
O little angel of mine, there’s a part of me that wishes I could ask you to stay
And go back to the wonderful days, when marriage for you was a doll’s play

This boy you brought home, he asks me for your hand
Says I love her, sir, I hope you would understand
My sweetheart, I know you love him more than anything
But the desire to keep you close seems so beautifully tempting

The red sari suits you quite well, my dear
My little angel, you look so beautiful and pure
My darling child, much too young to depart
The home and love of this father’s poor heart

Standing here, with my eyes helplessly filled
Oh, how I wish I could have this moment stilled
I watch as with a pinch of red vermilion he marks you as his
And I smile as I watch your face glowing with pure bliss

Happy Father's Day
Jacob 5d

I don't have much time to go
But before I have to let you go
To part as friends as I failed to let my feelings show
I ask myself, how could so many chances I forego
And when was the moment to feel just right to let you know?
That those times we spent together is all that I can think about
It's so hard to believe from this day on, we'll be apart
I guess it was all my fault, though
Thinking there would still be tomorrow
But is it too late to tell you what I feel?
Please think things through as you walk down the aisle
When the music ends you'll be with him,
As you both pledge your whole lives to each other
I can't bear to watch his kiss seal your union,
Knowing how things could've been instead

And though we were not alone,
I thought then our love had grown
So how could I've been so wrong?
And have that man part us both?
As he made his move, my mind foresaw,
The day would come when I can't help but let you go
I handled you with care as though you were already mine
Somehow, he took away what mattered most to me, with but a line
For his bravado, you fell and now we're here, so
I just can't help the way that I feel
That we're the ones meant to exchange those vows
Or so I thought

If you can toss that bouquet like the love I thought we had,
I'll bother you no more then wish you both well and go
It may take long
But I will try to get you out of what's left of my heart
If only you can hear what my heart says
We'd be the ones meant to exchange those vows
Now, I guess there's nothing more I can do
But bury all these thoughts in my head

You look more than beautiful as the day I've first laid my eyes on you, wearing that wedding dress.

She kneels over the remnants of a collectible,
a vase handed down from family.
Shards scattered about the floor;
it's contents making a disheveled canopy-
The flowers immediately looking old,
like the love she once had for the giver.
He still hands them out like always-
the thought, down her spine, sends a shiver.
He had bumped the table, carelessly-
not intentional in any form.
Yet she cried over the fractured pottery,
as if sheltering it from a storm.
He stood there, puzzled, above her
not understanding what this all meant.
Her distress was not natural;
her face now distorted and bent.
For her, the vase was their marriage
and as long as it was still intact,
there was hope for their future;
now it was broken and cracked.
Just a vase, he said to her
but it fell on deaf ears,
she had been expecting this to happen
for oh so many years.
The table now was vacant
of the symbol of their plight.
No need to yell or argue-
had no energy left to fight.
She went to the broom closet
and retrieved her dust pan and pail.
Cleaned up the broken pieces
and went to her room to wail.
So silly, she thought, that a vase
could keep together what never really was;
Some things are not repairable,
regardless what anyone says or does.

William Lacey Turnbull 6-13-17

Eleni Jun 13

"Normality?" She cried, " 'Tis a rarity!"
"First you powder your visage white
And then dust eyes with 'Black as Night'
Slather crimson on your lips and cheeks and the reincarnation is complete!"

"Left one, two, three, right one, two, three
And spin around in your ill-stared gown!
Blow kisses to the monsieurs and be free for the night is young and you are the clown!"

"Then what, oh, chaste priestess?"
"Why, lead him to the velvet underground
Perhaps lock those rouged lips of yours on his and unlock his garments with that wretched kiss!"

"Oh, my mistress, do not weep!
For it is only right that you are his this week!
Look, your masque is fading like a watercolour and speak to me, pitiful girl, a little slower!"

"I hear nothing, yet your mouth is moving.
We may be weak but we are conjuring
Love's handsome embrace,
So let there be briars of joy on that face!"

"Rulers make good lovers!
And will bring peace to the war-struck lands.
Oh, excitement has filled my body
Knowing that he will wed those delicate hands."

"Thanks be bestowed on you- Priestess of Utopia! You are right, I am the Clown and I shall conceive if needs be and for that, my soul shall drown!"

My take on Thomas Hardy's satire 'The Ruined Maid' and the role of medieval and perhaps unchaste women.
Leonila Jun 11

The Canvas of Her Soul

Forty years
Tell of the story
Of her life
That is such
As the canvas of her soul
Told through a painting

Myriad tones
Hues mixed in palette
Colors cast
The brush slaps paint on canvas
Portrait depiction

Her design
Picture of His love
Stains tell of
The Great Artist of her life
Traces of His love

Her outline
Angles of her cheeks
Graced by hues
Vivacity in spirit
Soul's intensity

He relished
In her sweet figure
Blossom lips
In her eyes were magnolias
Enhanced by ambers

Bronze tresses
Alluring swept maine
Copper curls
Entwined hair
Expressions of her painting

Moving frame
Her anatomy
He took pride
He fashioned
Her fluttering like the wind
Untamed butterfly

Scarlet tints
Through out the canvas
Marks of love
Told by Him
Painter that paints her portrait
His love that endures

Finished work
Unfinished business
The canvas
Lives in her
Intensity in her face

Tale of love
Told in poetry
In writing
Excellent composition
The story of love

Weary girl
Hardship of years gone
Out of reach
Tarnished art
Stands before the one she loves
He knows her story

Of her soul's own worth
She meets him
Once again
The Great Artist of Her Life
Sees right through her heart

Her soul cries
Before her great love
Warped canvas
Faded cloth
Pleading to erase the scars
Embedded with time

He glances
At His loving muse
Tears welling
Blinded eyes
Asking to renew the vow
He pleads from His love

Was His gorgeous bride
Who left Him
Walked away
Seeking love in distant lands
Found herself again

This love encounter
Who took flight
Has come home to her husband
The muse has come home

The story now ends
Joyous end
Love story
Of the canvas of her soul
And He that loves her.

Copyright©All rights reserved~Leonila 2016

Maggie's getting married,
All is much too harried;
But the dress is on,
The veil undrawn
Untill all words are spoken:
A vow, a pledge a promise made
To love and cherish all her days,
To love and cherish all his days,
From these chiming bells
To eternity's knells
Before friends and families.
But most importantly,
After the debris is clear,
To one another they will be
Loyal and true in fidelity,
And, by their own decree,
One in matrimony.

Middle daughter on June 16th.

We went to Texas and they said they missed us
Have to keep praying for a different pop song
I can't keep standing around your understanding,
that's a cue for our marriage to die
and you don't even have to ask why

I used to hear him crooning, which caused some swooning
I loved to be in love; having a heart beyond
eighties pictures and frat guys named Richard
Masturbating to a new control
and I've never felt so whole

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