There,
Alone, in the wet and dark mud,
Lies a lonely dark pink rose.
Oh!
The pain of seeing such
A frail and dainty creation
Just lying,
And dying,
Alone,
In that dark and thick muddy
Mire, had broken my heart
And left me crying.
I stood,
Alone, before the muddy mire,
Just staring down
At the dark pink rose
As it lied there,
So still and lifeless,
Having lost most of its lovely
Fragrant petals;
Just lying there,
all alone,
So still and listless,
As I brushed away
At every tear that had fallen
Down my face.
Yes!
So quickly each tear drop
Went....... Falling,
Falling,
Falling
So quickly down my face,
Like an early morning's
Spring rain,
Falling,
Falling,
Falling
And leaving behind
Their wet stain,
Leaving behind
A deep sadness of pain,
The image of the dark pink
Rose, now and forever,
A haunting memory
Embedded in my brain!
I knelt down, slowly,
Before the dark muddy mire,
On my knees,
And reached a hand out
For the dying pink rose,
And I held it tightly
In my hand, as I arose,
With tears still
Streaming down  my face,
Dropping down,
With a silent splash,
Into the dark muddy mire,
Drop by drop by drop,
As I stood,
Clutching the dark
Pink rose in my hand,
Holding it even closer to my
Emptied breast,
With my broken heart
Rapidly beating,
Beating,
Beating
Against my hollowed chest,
So rapidly that I began
To think that it just might
Even stop,
As I tenderly cradled
The dying rose,
Wondering if anyone
Shall ever know about all
Of these tears that quickly
Flow?
Yes, does anyone know?
I wonder, does anyone see
Just how quickly the stream
Flows and flows and flows
As I stand, alone,
Before the muddy mire,
Where the dark clouds
Have begun to quickly form
And the sharp wind blows,
And blows and blows,
Where another crushed
Dark pink petal goes?
Yes!
To the wild winds another
Fallen pink petal goes,
And another one just as quickly
Goes,
And another,
And another..........
Just like the tears that fall
Down my face,
The emptiness,
The brokenness,
And the deep pain
And sadness all begin
To show,
As I glanced down
And gently,
Ever so tenderly,
Kissed the dead
Pink rose.

"My dear.......But, who has made you
This sad that you must cry?"
For he only heard her sobs.
He only saw the tears that fell down
A pale cheek.
"Tell me, won't you please?"
"Can't you try?"
He only gave her a moment
Before he bent down his dark head
And gently kissed each green eye
That cried.
She looked up at him and smiled.
The tears stopped falling.
The sadness in her eyes
Had suddenly disappeared,
Like the dark clouds  clearing
On a bright sunny spring day.
She became changed
And in a most becoming way!
He smiled just as brightly too
And opened his mouth to say,
"My dear.....But, who has made you
This happy that you must smile?"
And, he reached out a hand,
"Come, my dear.
Sit with me for a while."

My body aches
For the touch of his dark hand
To slowly trail soft, light, and gentle
Tender sweet caresses all over
My fair damp skin.
I needed, so much, to feel his
Own dark damp skin
Touching my skin,
Lightly brushing up against
Each other,
So lightly,
Over and over again,
Just he and I,
Alone,
And bare damp skin to skin.
Oh, my Spanish lover!
Make me feel so rightly
In these dark hours that we
Always meet together nightly,
Before the morning's light
Shines upon our two
Bare entwined bodies
So brightly!
My heart beats,
Beats,
Beats
Rapidly in impatient
Anticipation as his strong
Dark hands touch all over
My bare and fair,
Tender, fevered flesh.
Oh, how my lover's gentle touch
Fulfills my every wish!
Yes, love!
Touch me and never stop,
As your body moves
Slowly and sensually
Against mine from atop.
Don't ever stop!
I'll always want more
Of your passionate kisses---
Kiss me!
Kiss me once again!
Kiss me some more!
Yes, kiss me always!
I'll always want more
Of your light and gentle
Caresses---
Touch me!
Touch me once again!
Touch me some more!
Yes, touch me always,
Mi amor,
Whom I'll always love
And adore!

Tonight,
I shall encompass my lover's high quarters
And sweetly serenade my master
By a grand company of numerous bright
And twinkling stars
As I stand before his balcony 'neath
The moonlight,
Along with a coterie of master
Flutists and harpists,
I shall dance, in a gown of silken spun
White, along the lush green grass
As I sing a sweet, sweet lullaby,
Hoping to stir my lover's ears to listen
And awaken to hear only words
Of longing, a passionate love,
Flowing rapidly and freely from my
Quivering lips, my heart and soul dance,
And just like the fireflies, they both
Take flight, in anticipation of my master's
Quick footsteps up above upon
The balcony's stone steps,
I await his handsome and familiar face
Above, yearning for his arms
To envelop me just like the comforting
Wings of a dove, I also wait
For his strong lips that would devour
Mine with an endless deep love!
I sing,
"Come, my sleeping master!
Show me thy dark and handsome face!
Look down upon me, your lover,
With your loving dark eyes,
And see a lovely picture of a love
And devotion so rare,
As I wait impatiently in my place,
For just a glimpse of thee,
Perhaps just a glimpse of thy very dark
Hair?  Oh, my love!
Come near!
And, do be quick about it, my dear!"
For, I shall never again pass another night's
Peaceful rest upon my empty and lonesome
Bed, if ever you were to never show me
The presence of thy very own dark head!
But, I shall have to pass a cold night's
Restless slumber with only these two
Loathsome companions,
As depressing company,
Sadness and dread,
Tossing to-and-fro
And only wishing that I were dead.
My love!
Awaken and come to me
For how I so loveth only thee!
Should I then climb your stairs and storm
Through thy darkened bed chamber
For just a glimpse of thy dark face
As I eagerly kiss thee,
My handsome sleeping prince,
All over thy face and blackened brow,
I do kiss thee now, over and over
A thousand times, I kiss thee!
Over and over a thousand times,
I do fondly caress thee,
My sleeping prince!
Over and over a thousand times,
I do hold thee very tightly,
My loving master!
Oh, how I yearn for thee nightly,
For I only adore and worship thee,
As I silently linger until the morning hours
Shine in upon the two of us,
With the sun's shining light so brightly,
I rest quietly beside thy bed,
Close, and near at thy knee,
I rest beside thee, my true love,
Under the stars and moonlight.

For several long years,
A lonely speckled brown bird had been captured
From her home among the thorny shrubs
And prickly pear, her nest
In the barbed cholla cactus,
And kept as a prisoner locked up
In a metal cage and only being given
A minuscule amount of sustenance.
Sometimes she went a few days without
A thing at all.
Many times she went hungry for food
And kind companionship,
For her life behind bars was very dismal
That she even longed, many times,
For a quick death for then at least
She'd be free.
Oh!  If only!
If only!
If only she could find a way to flee..........
For she really was a brave little thing!
Indeed, she did believe that one day soon
She would be freed.

Not long after, her cage had been left open,
And so she had tried to
Escape but only to have the metal bars
Roughly shut before her.
And, all hope was gone.
Every day since then she's died
A little bit more and more with each
Passing day.
Oh, it was never in any outward way,
But instead, it was done on the inside of her,
In her heart and it greatly wounded her spirit,
Slowly, just like a flower that withers away
Under the sun's scorching ray,
So she too slipped quietly away...........
Slowly,
Slowly,
So slowly and feeling so alone and lowly.
For she was too weak and hadn't much strength
For even a beetle nor ant.
She now welcomed death,
"Please!  Come for me!"
Words spoken in desperation.
Words she would not recant.
And, with a torn and broken wing
That had been injured by her cruel
Imprisonment, she wasn't able to fly.

One day during the eighth month of August,
A severe thunderstorm struck,
Roiling across the vast dry desert
Landscape with flashes of bright lightening
And high tempestuous winds
That caused a cloud of dust
Along with a heavy downpour of raindrops.
This summertime storm continued raging,
Unmercifully and relentlessly,
For many, many hours.
And she was placed outside, alone
And frightened, amidst this catastrophe,
When along came a strong gust of wind
Swirling around her, knocking the cage
To the hard ground where the bars crashed open
Upon the rocks.
She could smell the cool damp air.
She could feel the warm wind ruffle her feathers
As the raindrops fell,
Pitter-patter, from the darkened sky,
Illuminated only by the bright flashes
Of lightening.
She heard the thunder and she was greatly
Frightened, but she knew that this was her last
Chance to escape the bars of her prison
And be free, forever and ever.
FOREVER.

She flew.
She flew as far and high and fast as her
Broken wings would let her go,
Up, up, up into the darkened stormy sky,
Where the thunder still roared just
As loudly and the lightening flashed
Just as brightly,
She flew.
She flew right on through the August's storm
And she found..........
FREEDOM.
At last.
Oh!  How she did fly so fast and so high!
How she did it she didn't know,
For she had always been just another bird
That never did know how to fly.
But, now.........
Look at her go!
Up, up, up she goes, all the way on to
The shores of Mexico!

One day,
The man woke up to a dark,
Silent, and empty house.
Besides the old, dusty, brown
Chairs and sofa,
And alone with some old rusty
Appliances, nothing else
Could be seen there.
He looked and looked.
They weren't anywhere.
His wife and three children
Were no longer here.
It was only him-
ALONE.
One would surely think
That it would have mattered,
Even just a little bit, to him,
That his family had just
Suddenly had enough
And so they disappeared,
Completely, from his life.
But!  He still spent all of his time
At a job he only hated.
He still spent any of his spare time
That he had on the newest
Phone.
He still spent most of his
Waking hours in the latest car,
Driving, driving, driving
Well, everywhere!
For, he never stayed home
With his family,
That at one time, had loved
Him and did many, many things
For him, things that he always
Took for granted.
Why, some would even say
That he really didn't miss them
At all!  For, throughout the years,
Not a day during spring, summer,
Or fall did either the mother
Nor the children ever enter
His mind.
And, if any of them ever did,
Well then....
Nevermind!
He had other important
Things to do you know,
Other than think about them,
Four forgotten and misplaced
Objects that he only would use
And toss aside, day after day,
March, April, and May.
Remember!
He had to work.
He just didn't ever have any time,
Not even an hour, to spare,
Even if he did care!
He had plenty of time to spare,
However, to be on his phone,
Day after day,
Night after night.......
And, then suddenly, just like that,
All of the three children
Had all grown.
And just how he had missed it all
Shall remain, just like a mystery,
Unknown.

He's just too busy!

How,
After so much that has passed,
How am I still able to look upon
Him with any amount
Of sorrow?
Pity?
Regret?
Just how is it that I can feel
Such pain and sadness
That can bring upon me
All of these tears that I cry?
These tears that just
Aren't so very pretty?
No!
These tears, for him,
My neglectful lover,
Are not pretty!
Not even one!
Yet, foolishly, how I do
Still weep!
How, foolishly, that I do
Still toss and turn
In my restless sleep!
How, foolishly, that I can
Still feel my broken heart's cut
Real deep!
Oh, such a fool am I!
Such wishful thinking
That I still keep!
FOOL!
FOOL!
FOOL!
To ever think if only
He could have ever
Loved you!

Tell me,
Has anyone else ever felt alone
And lost, like you don't belong
Where you have been placed at?
Tell me,
What must one do about that?
Tell me,
Has anyone else ever felt
So lonely and unloved
Even when another's lips
Kissed your very own
And their arms were around
You tightly?
Tell me,
Why does this awful feeling
Of loneliness always come
To me nightly?
Tell me,
Has anyone else ever cried
Tears that would never cease,
A deep innermost pain
Upon their release?
Tell me!
Anyone........Please!
Tell me,
Has anyone else ever longed
For a way out because you
Don't know what your life
Is supposed to be about?
Please!  Just tell me the truth,
You must, even if your
Countenance should look
Very grim and you pout,
You must tell me the truth
Ever so gently,
Do not raise your voice,
For you needn't shout,
But, tell me the truth
And surely I will have
No doubt.
Tell me,
Does anyone know
If the journey will end
Very well?
Tell me, but only if you
Are brave enough to tell!