A flitting, spotted butterfly was spotted by a netter
Who grabbed his trusty, fine-meshed net and set about to get her.
She lit upon a lupine new and opened her wings slowly,
He stole up very stealthily, focused upon her solely.
When he came within her reach, he swished out with his net,
But she took off to the sky and filled him with regret.
She flew behind the lilac bush, where he could not see,
And when he spotted her again, she headed for a tree.
She fluttered high above the lawn with him in hot pursuit,
Waving his net wildly, efforts not bearing fruit.
He kept his eyes fixed on her flight as he chased his quarry.
Then something happened suddenly that left him rather sorry:
For on the grass early that morn, the dog had left a pile,
And when I think what happened next, well, I just have to smile.

I've never been one for burning bridges.
Every time I've tried,
I rebuild to watch it crumple again.

The ashes aren't as strong as the cinder
used the very first time.
But, if I'm honest,

the fragility makes the spiral
much more meaningful.

January blues are bittersweet,
Red berries stand resistant to the mourning frost.
death lingers amongst the trees, reigning over a white paradise.
A delicate green **** blows like a flag in the snow, refusing to surrender.

A paradise lays amongst the remains for those willing to see.
cradled in the arms of a great oak, under a blanket of a thousand stars.

Are you a star?
Do you look down every night
and convince the lonely
that they are still life?
Do couples watch you
and, just as silently as the way you blink at them,
fall in love with each other.

Have you,
for centuries
piled on centuries,
sat still and thrown your magic at the sky?,
smiled a tooth-full smile of unrequited love
that shines for people light years after?

Do you sometimes implode?
Yes you do, I have seen it with my own two eyes.
I know you try to hide it:
you implode at a distance
to not hurt those around.

You are a hopeless romantic
who gave birth to a son.
After the sun, there are three stars
held together by gravity:
love must be one, I wish to be one and you the other

though I feel like the sun
on fire: burning with anguish, with the torture
of so many drawn to me but not wanting to touch,
with frustration at my memory forgetting your touch
and longing it at the same time

I feel like the sun; the star you forget is a star
admired from afar, watch him burn from afar:
a beautiful, lonely implosion
a spectacle to the world and its cousins;
gravity is me pulling you closer but unsure of myself
and you looking into a shy fire, afraid to get burnt.

Today I typed into Google
How far are the stars from earth?
I do not think I am a romantic
Surely you would have asked
How close are the stars to us?

Yes You must be a star
and I a city at night with every light turned on.
We catch eyes across this dark field
and you turn away so quickly after
I am Sorry
I have been busy
feeling for the light-switch in every space within me
then I got to where your room would be and it was empty
you had left without saying a word
with trembling soles I followed where your every footstep led
the tracks suddenly disappeared
and tonight you're in a full moon's sky
throwing your magic
smiling with that tooth-full smile
for all else but me
and I am a city
far below
with every light turned on for You.

Happiness is not something I'm accustomed to
I'm sure that if I ever came face to face with happiness I would fail to identify her
Don't get me wrong happiness is something that I crave
I long for happiness
I desire it
I desire happiness so much it almost is sickening
I lust after happiness
The need to feel her everyday only grows
But yet she is somehow always just out of my reach
So I settle for her lover sadness instead
Occasionally happiness and I will hook up
But I always fall back into the arms of sadness
Every time that sadness takes me my thoughts drift to happiness
How I wish it was her instead of him
Maybe one day I will have the courage to take a hold of happiness and never let her go
But for now I will settle for the unsatisfying embrace that sadness has to offer

Fate calls on a cold summer eve.
Easing fourth I pretend that my dissatisfaction
Is a fruitful beacon.
My soul contends to rest in the shadow
Of hollow desire.

Rising from the hate buried deep
within,
I seek the path least taken to empty the blackness
That has become a focal point
In where my attention is affixed.

I turn lies into truths with the wave of hand.
Crafting chaos in disguise,
While exuding innocence with my eyes.

This is all just a plan that collapses
In Light,
To seek requiem in the twisted visions
Of the darkest corners of my mind.