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A Benedict Jul 2019
Planet king coronated,
in early summer night.
Shining brightly,
glowing majestically,
pushing out its radiant light.
Hanging in southern skies,
clinging to Scorpio’s,
stubborn back.

Antares orange pulsating,
each beat,
of the beast’s,
powerful heart,
as he maneuvers slowly,
stealthily,
and secretly,
driving piercing claws,
into the neighborly,
scales of justice.

Summer sky’s
stellar sight,
in a universal playground.
Breathtaking journey,
through an almighty,
game of wonder and delight.
A Benedict Jul 2019
What a difference a year makes.
Within one rapid revolution around the sun,
there were new people I counted upon,
and now they’re done.

New places,
new faces,
new discoveries,
as one single, solitary spring,
yielded new blooms,
as life began anew.

Friendships forged,
and favors done.
From simple basic bonds,
as fresh excitement filled my days.
Sounds of Van Morrison,
sang through endless summer nights,
but only after the summer shower.

So many conversations about life,
and the many triumphs,
tragedies and places,
from the past,
into the present,
and in between.

A new home found,
a home loved.
A home with friends,
these brothers and sisters.

On one occasion,
powerful torrents of rain,
wind and devastation,
moved up the coast,
as my family moved closer to me,
and I took care of them.

With bread broken in the darkness,
that night when the power went out,
and wine guzzled to the last drop by candlelight,
hearty toasts toasted to strong friendships,
toasts to good times,
toasts to loyalty.
What a difference a year makes.

Then the leaves fell hard,
not only on the common walkway we shared,
but upon the camaraderie,
that was forged,
and on those days that I thought would never end.

As temperatures dropped,
The friends grew cold too.
With all the favors done,
guidance given,
affection offered,
timelessness now became uselessness.

When the snow fell,
these flakes also scattered one-by-one.
Away they went.
Away.

Then the spring sun rose,
while that cold wind continued to blow,
through the trees that once carried,
friendship’s friendly leaves.

No more bread.
Empty bottles of wine.
As the doves scattered,
they vanished like dust,
and these friendships disappeared,
while my heart banged a broken beat.

But a lesson was taught and learned,
protect each month,
and guard each day,
because what a difference a year makes.
A Benedict Jul 2019
Ivy-covered garden,
soft evening breeze,
whistles through the beaten wooden trellis,
that once supported the climbing vine,
now parted from the feeble frame.

Luscious green leaves,
stems grow strong.
Trellis yearns for yesterday,
when days were longer,
filled with innocence,
garden now full of abundance,
overgrown with bittersweet memories.

Ivy once a young sprightly sprig,
now elegant,
overrun and overtired,
from her trellis.

Jasmine perfumes the sweet,
thick summer air.
Ivy’s memories,
hanging onto her mighty trellis,
strong reliable foundation,
dancing together,
season after season.

Days grew shorter,
the wood grew older,
ivy thirsted with lust and desire,
to spread her leaves.

In the garden,
the trellis still stands,
rain falls down his cheeks.
A smile cracks in the wood,
a smile as wide,
as its rounded arch.

The ivy still beautiful,
after all these years.
Worn, tired and broken,
faithful remains her trellis.
A Benedict Jun 2019
On a flower-potted balcony,
over the creaky,
cracky wooden railing.
Behind some thorny,
yellow rose bushes,
just in front of the tall,
line of pine trees that,
border the perimeter,
towers a green,
grimy garbage dumpster.

A gaze towards the sun,
a quick glance at the clock.
6:43 in the evening,
and sunlight’s
shadows drop lower,
just past the receptacle.
A patch of splendid,
sunshine dances,
upon golden tufts,
of trash poking through,
the greasy garbage,
next to a hilly mound,
of emerald green grass.

Shadows sojourn,
speckling the sparkling,
sun-splashed plain.
Now 6:47,
and the trash doesn’t,
look so bad after all.
A Benedict Jun 2019
Something given,
and something taken away.

A sunrise enjoyed,
its golden rays,
later darkened.

The sound of,
a turquoise sea,
lapping onto the beach,
quickly quieted.

The warm touch,
of flannel sheets,
on a February’s,
shivering body,
now feel icy cold.

Spring’s first scent,
of the rose,
stuffed away in a,
congested corner.

All that I’ve worked for,
and all that I’ve earned.
All that I’ve been promised,
and all that I deserve,
all once given,
only to be taken away.
A Benedict Jun 2019
Ever befriend a demon?
A demon who lashes,
one who lurks inside,
thrashes and thrusts,
with nowhere to hide.

Ever been scorned by a demon?
A demon who angers,
a monster within that disguise,
of sorrow swallowed by hate,
fury hiding one billion cries.

Ever been hurt by a demon?
Have you been tortured,
by one who finds delight,
through the damage he inflicts,
with a simple flex of his might?

Ever find the soul of that demon?
In the hellfire where it burns,
an eternal blaze that never dies,
just look into the sadness,
of that demon’s eyes.
A Benedict Jun 2019
Bright green tufts,
of grass grow in the yard.
Each blade climbs steadily,
each sway gently,
in the early,
evening summer breeze.

The summer breeze,
gently touches your soft cheek,
as do I.
I caress its softness,
the soft, skin’s purity.

Your purity,
reaches inside of me.
Touching my mind,
grabbing hold of my soul.

As my soul rises,
my eyes rise too.
I look at your face,
and gaze into your eyes.

Your precious eyes,
stare out the window.
Intently you glance,
at the bright green tufts,
of grass that grows in the yard.

— The End —