Aug 2017 Tia White
Stephan

Tonight I shall dream of an autumn encounter
Holding my head oh so high to the sky
Finding the north holds my one true desire
Realizing days do not end with good bye

Maple leaves fall in affectionate patterns
Seasoned devotion now scenting the air
Passions are stored in a southern collection
Numbered in order of all that we share

For in my mind I imagine horizons
Borderline longings our footprints will trace
Oceans of fresh water rippled sensations
Plaid flannel shirts that are worn in this place

Poetic pleasures to breathe in her writing
Softly they whisper, caressing my skin
Long in between yet so worth the time waiting
Closing my eyes hoping words will begin

Here now I stand all alone in this moment
Finding the glow of your smile on a star
Feeling your touch in a moon beam of quivers
Knowing this dream is wherever you are

Counting the days as the nights become shorter
Riding a cloud in the heavens above
Daring our hearts to be those we can capture
Lost in this realm that is known as our love
 Aug 2017 Tia White
Stephan

I send these phrases,
shimmered gold,
of smiling moons
and stories told

Midst evening skies
and midnight dreams
in whispers soft
on stardust beams

Poetic verses,
glistened glare,
a falling star,
a wish to share

Of mystic realms
in twinkled light
and promises
aglow this night

So when you gaze
this summer eve
upon these stanzas
I now weave

You’ll find the
crescent moon above
illumines you with
all my love
I guess you can tell where my thoughts are tonight. : )
 Aug 2017 Tia White
Stephan

Taking routes I’ve long since traveled
Following a desperate moon
Seeking words of comfort written
Hoping they will find you soon

I have wallowed in this darkness
Fought my way through silent days
Felt the thorns of bygone wishes
Pointed in their sad displays

Crossed the plains of lost forgiveness
Looked away when time has died
Stood and faced the longest hours
Wiped away these tears I’ve cried

Just to lift you from these caverns
Memories that haunt your soul
Carving an unsorted feeling
Lifeless as the thoughts control

Lean on me for I shall steady
Every fall your heart may face
Never once to slightly waiver
Like a rock held firm in place

Take my hand it longs to lead you
Far from any distant fear
Showing but a glistened landscape
Skies above forever clear

Where a moonbeam lights your smile
Lasting as the day is long
To fill your heart with healing rhythms
Together as we sing this song

Sitting on a hillside meadow
Counting stars and rainbow hues
Here within my arms to hold you
Wrapped up in these wondrous views

Safely I shall shield your worries
Visions shown to understand
Never more in lonely whispers
On this journey I have manned

Taking routes I’ve long since traveled
Following the glow above
Penning words of comfort written
So that you might feel my love
Tangled in a web
of malicious destruction,
whilst spectators
enjoy the show,

alone
in a dark crowded room
without windows,
lost with nowhere
safe to go.

Taunted
by the breath-stealers,
and their curses -
it's taking a terrible toll
on an innocent soul,

attaching themselves
like a virus,
to every healthy living cell -
poisoning every breath
is their goal.

Causing havoc,
running amok,

breaking a spirit,
wishing nothing
but misfortune - bad luck!

It's as though
they have a seal
placed upon their hearts,

they continue to
flap their serpent tongues...
For them,
there is no salvation -
with the devil they conspire,
he supplies and multiplies
their toxic darts.

I almost pity their souls,
for they sold them,
whilst they were
already blessed,

never ever
will these evil servants
peacefully rest!

By Lady R.F ©2016
I sit in the silence of my room
And stare at the stucco walls,
From morning glare to the evening gloom
The coming despair appals,
For I know that it’s sneaking up on me
That memory of your face,
So cold and still in the evening chill
And pale, once you’d run your race.

You always gave me a joyful wave
And said you’d be there for me,
But what you gave from a shallow grave
Was only more misery.
You couldn’t reach out to hold my hand
As you did in the days before,
When once a kiss was the source of bliss
But of kissing, there was no more.

Your skin was an alabaster white
Once your blood had ceased to flow,
Where was the warmth when I held you tight
On those nights, so long ago?
And where the spark that shone at your eyes
From the recess of your soul?
It leaves the eyes when a lover dies
And the touch of the skin is cold.

But now you form on the stucco wall
And wave, like you waved to me,
Before you ran from the narrow hall
And out by the willow tree,
A car came leaping into the room
As it did, and it knocked you down,
It’s then I cradled you in my arms
Like a man who’s about to drown.

I see these visions, day after day
When I stare too long at the wall,
I cry and weep, and I get no sleep
When I dream of your funeral,
I reach right into the plaster where
I think I can touch your face,
But only can feel the stone cold wall
Of another time and place.

David Lewis Paget
Wild native branches - A jungle-green canopy sheltering this ever-flowing stream that runs rapidly,
most steadily, to and fro my heart.

Ancient autumn leaves weaved into an intricate, detailed, complex, rustic carpet, concealing paths and footprints leading in and out of my mind.

Forty two springs worth of magnificent arrays of wildflowers decorate each serene scene bordering this stream - each cluster a chapter of my life.

These scattered wild arrangements, with their heavenly scent, delight my senses - they are most pleasing to my mind's eye.

There's gold dust, nuggets, and precious gemstones, hidden in the gravel, they're also buried in the bedrock of this stream, and in the river that it feeds.
This stream is a constant source, feeding my hungry heart and mind.

The river that is fed by this stream
  is my soul - this ever-flowing stream is a corridor which runs to and fro my heart; it carries the oxygen in my blood, through my veins.

Whilst manoeuvering around the stepping-stones that are laid-out sporadically, most beautifully, but imperfectly, across this stream,
THEY, double cross me;
A highway, used to get to where THEY are going, time and time again.

~By Lady R.F ©2016
The night is still - frozen,
Goodbyes are forced, not chosen.

By Lady R.F ©2016
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