Green to amber, And amber to brown; Reflective blue To a tumultuous gray. Glimmering dew Now a shining frost.
The sun, Once beaming overhead Now longingly gazes sideways, Bestowing a more gentle light Over the delicate landscape.
The marsh is ever changing, But I feel the same.
I’ve been here for a year... it went by so quick. I’m amazed. I’ve written over 500 poems and used 11 thousand words. But I have a question: does the word count count how many different words I’ve used, or how many words are in all my poetry? It could go either way with me, so I really don’t know.
I let him know how I smiled at the way his hand fitted inside of mine, and oh how I fancy his love, but instead of love all he handed me whatever he found laying around, and an unwanted bye.
I let him know I love him with no gray areas attached. If you know him, then you know he has a heart that is hard to catch. shielded by a rain-forest of mirrors glazed over in metallic black.
Still, in my darkest hour, I muster up holocausts of hope, as I watched my love and what he called love to walk away on a free falling tightrope. I could hear his words faintly in the distance over and over again.
"In time what will be will be". "In time what will be will be". "In time what will be will be".
His words felt less like a song and more like our eulogy, but I am still hopeful and will love him until my heart is worn out. I will not let my mouth forbid me to speak what my heart needs him to hear.
What do you do with a heart that won’t give up or let go, what has let go of it? But I am still hopeful like twins in a crowded womb, hopeful like waiting for a chance.
And one day I will teach my soul to give sunlight back to the sun and continue to hold the dear words Jonathan never sang.
Voices wispering "hush dear, be safe with us" Sounds of whimpering "liars, don't listen, don't make a fuss" Creature talking "you can't pretend, in your head it's all about us" ... My reflection mirrored in a strangers frown creature creeping underneath my gown is it me, sweeping give to whom it belongs, this heavy crown
In your pictures the conflict hides through pretty gestures beauty subsides and love with its tiring lectures
I don't give a **** about your empty phrases turned down praises Watch me pull the plug Your insincerity amazes as I watch you feast on a deers pluck
You're not a dog all you do is bark getting rid of carcasses at the bog listen closely and hear the lark we all get lost in the fog see if you can catch a spark listen closely and hear the frog you will see me in the dark
O' marshes! Swallow up the gale Which farthest I could hear, Ne'er I belong such privilege By myrtle over there. Recollecting where the pod To whom I left behind, The continent, The humble swamps, Surpassing us again.