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A road of palest lime fluttering Sycamore trees
Some almost leafless, others coronets still there
Through the golden branches colbalt blue skies
Lilac bushes, the garden daisies, flower in rows.

Thinning Robinna casts shadows of dim shade
Contrasting the red Acer’s lace leaf with green
The trunk arch of handkerchief laden Foxglove
Holds open its beautiful boughs to be admired.

For Autumn spreads my walk in glorious glitter
Though the evening pulls in the coldness of year
Making the best of these last savages of seasons
Gathering leavings, the birdtable spills its seeds.

Love Mary ***
Hello?
Can you hear me?
I’m down here...
6 feet under...
Not where I’m suppose to be
You come and visit me
Everyday
I hear you constantly pray
To talk to me again
Hold my hand
Hug me tight
Well I’m right here
I hear everything you say
I cry with you
I laugh with you
I pray with you
I am always with you
Even from 6 feet under
I AM HERE
I pray myself
To heal your pain
Dry your eyes
Help you move on
Don’t forget me
You know where I am
Always in your heart
Forever your friend
I will continue to grow old with you
Until we meet again
When we walk together in the sky
Holding each others hands
For now I stay
6 feet underground
Loving you
Praying with you
Hearing your voice
As I lay in silence
6 feet underground...
Wrote this from the perspective of a person who has passed away and what they see and feel everyday....
I’m crying for help
But without making a sound
Am I’m really crying for help
If my mouth is shut and hands are bound
Someone please find me now
Otherwise I’ll be left in a box called
“Lost but not ever found”
I don’t know why I wrote this.. just came to me in the perspective of those who are lost but are never found...
A cascade of tears create an inlet
while a desert of scars leaves me stranded
The subtleties of the wounded spirit
won’t always bleed from my wistful heart

I reflect in the ocean of sorrow
whilst famine feeds my storm
Quenching the longing for insight
I am witness to the rising of a new dawn

I will betray this spiritual darkness
by tending to my sacred garden
Soaking the seeds of compassion
I lie in wait for my soul to blossom
10/19/18. The lesson is learning to be patient and trusting all things meant to be will become in time.
I see us now
not sounding depth
of oceans found
we sailed on
seeking sun

with osprey wings
we'd soar on high
above the dross
all left
behind

Remember how
we laughed and cried
no day expired
without
a hug

but waves delete
all fire shared
aboard life's deck
washed memories
overboard

I turn the page
old letters worn
once filled with
kisses sweet
now still

in ears stopped up
they speak and roar
for years have
passed and youth
has fled

no passage found
I'm left afloat
my breath is hoarse
I whisper pained:

I see you still
Coming across some old letters and cards these thoughts emerged...
My recollections of the past
have merely become faded photographs

Birthday parties with pink balloons
funerals held in a floral print room

boxes upon boxes of forgotten times
now resurrected, consuming my mind

would these memories exist if not seen in print?
would my mind conjure up something different?

Would I look at this life through a lens of curved glass
if not for the help of a photograph
Take pictures people. You'll want the memories later.
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