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 Apr 2017 Alexandru
Ocean Blue
... an olive tree,
To give you some shade,
A drop of water,
When emotion dries your throat,
A silent breeze,
When you hold your breath,
Your lighthouse,
When you sail through your storm,
The blood
That runs madly through your veins,
The flood
That spills your wells.
Sweet Darling,
Don't you feel that
I can't stop loving you,
Morning and evening too.
Throughout the years,
I will be
Waiting for you,
If you still want me.
 Apr 2017 Alexandru
Gidgette
I was in the cemetery again, this noon
Dandelion graves and lost stones
Dwelling atop a hidden hill
Deep within the pines
Not my cemetery
Not ancient
I laid
Upon a certain grave
It had my name
Amanda
One of only two stones with
Still visible words
Unwashed by
Time
She was only 17, passing
Married, buried
With child
Baby
A long lost to time
Child bride
Of the
1800's
For her to be in that particular cemetery
She had to be a soldiers wife
Confederate, rebel
I mourned her
The stone residing next to hers
was worn by wind and time
A dandelion grave
~A
Cemeteries are a morbid habit of mine. The particular cemetary I speak of here, is called Boot Hill. A civil war cemetery. Amanda's grave was one of very few female graves I've found in war graveyards. Her stone said,"With her child." And indeed, as early as it is in this season, that cemetery was covered with dandelions.

— The End —