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3.9k · Oct 2018
Lost Youth
Martin Heath Oct 2018
Lost Youth -

Stripped of fanciful youth
Fed to lions for some merciless sport
Fate forbidding mere choice

The dealer comes up short
Denied luxury of a final voice
Left to fend off the night

Parishioners rejoice
Bloodstained sidewalk outside seems quite not right
Child awaits the new day

Lions refuse to fight
Then mourn the lamb that lies down on broadway
Panhandlers beg for truth
"The Lamb Lies Down On Broadway" ,
written by Genesis ©1974
3.4k · Sep 2018
Lonesome Pine
Martin Heath Sep 2018
Lonesome Pine -

T'day I knelt by your Lonesome Pine
Stroked cold needles from your stone face
Lifelessly lying scattered 'las
Revealing shy eyes that still shine

Limbs 'bove shadow Heaven's staircase
Swaying gently amidst gold rays
Reflecting off worn weathered steps
Praying for a lasting embrace

Knees weak amongst wet wilted grass
Straining to shed a heartfelt tear
Glancing above when b'low I stared
Sand sifts thru our lost hourglass

T'day I knelt by your Lonesome Pine
Stroked Spanish Moss from your sweet hair
T'night tears pour thru these trembling hands
Alongside this our lonesome shrine
2.2k · Sep 2018
Martin Heath Sep 2018
Reincarnation -

Today sensing I saw you 'least I think that of a squint
That of a telltale glint a telltale wonted wink
Straight thru to my soul in an inquisitive slant
Passing 'long side somewhat a furtive glance

Yet only to see 'twas not actually you
But a passing stray cat looking back at me

Then down past that path 'long crippled creek
A voice softened so sweet held such mystique
Awakening times of verse uttered in rhyme
As we laid in summer's parched pastimes

Yet only to hear 'twas not actually you
But a proud jay of blue words 'pon my ear

'round the bend 'n riding the wind
Fragrance of hyacinths thru the tamarind
Swearing 'twas you obscured in a trance
Memories now beckon of lost romance

Yet to inhale 'twas not actually you
But the wind thru the willow weeping quite frail

Out of those woods feeling fingers of flesh
Is this you again your spirit refreshed
As if reliving our mourned childhoods
New life 'mongst these ole cottonwoods

Yet only to feel 'twas not actually you
But a monarch alighting so quite genteel

Today I saw you 'least I think
From your telltale shine so quite so distinct
Not sure exactly it might conceal
Your rebirth 'n the wonders it might reveal

Perhaps the morrow we'll meet remember
We two peas in that perpetual pod
This cycle of life 'n its cycle of death
Complete in replete with each of our breaths
As each we breathe in strolling once more
Hand in hand 'long life's promenade
318 · May 17
The Bells In The Meadow
Martin Heath May 17
The Bells In The Meadow -

In the wildness of my western meadow drenched in green
Where as a boy and a boy weary in dreams
Toads wore thorns of Kings roamed beneath black cloaked stars
And stars that then danced in bright milky white rapport
Sun in summer's time soon scorched small minds at play
Laying in wait in the tall old Oaks curled in her crusted arms
Ambushing boys armed with carved wood rifles blood red dried scars
In the wildness of my meadow lay unborn futures unseen

Meadow's wilderness wild washed in false sweet delights
Stalking feeding pheasants 'til fleeing in frantic flight
Fantasies soared 'neath the sun soaking closed narrow rows
Of fattened trees dangling figs for me and the shy sparrow
Wind in winter's time blew until moist warm mornings in May
While the dogs and the dogs of the children still ran
Free to root out red furred squirrels so frightened and
Flee over the meadow's grass green while futures burned bright

Memories quieted on the western meadow
Where as a man and a man of years unknown
Grown the tarnished thistle thick the stained sweetbrier
Cowering in the bright milky waywardly stars
Horned toads gone their tired desperate ways
Carved rusted wood rifles line dried Christmas Tree forts
Hounds their great grandpups groomed in gallant rapport
Memories of my western meadow green where broken bells toll
314 · May 24
Quiet The Roar
Martin Heath May 24
Quiet The Roar -

Quiet the roar of incoming tide
When sonorous sighs so surge
Capture lost longings now crystallized
Beside the corpse of courage

Lay my wreaths of remorse e'er softly
O'er wind blown Wisteria leaves
'n bury the heath berries gently
That one day may they believe

Quiet the weeping receding tide
Leaving stained shores to sorrow
Where only sea's sullen shells reside
'waiting one last tomorrow

Lay my body o' beliefs once lived
O'er wind blown grasses of green
Bury the mistletoe's melted kiss
Beside her angelic sheen
93 · 1d
Nothing But
Nothing But -

Nothing but mere memories
Soak the molten misty mind
That linger 'mongst her Majesty's
Her last sips of spoiled vintage wine
Hark not the hellish purple hues
Infesting blues of distant sky
When hearts felt love once felt so new
Against lost youth its crimson cries
Nothing but mere memories
Fester within wilted wounds
That swim within fantasies
Of once a warm silent womb
58 · Jul 14
Kiss Of Kindness
Martin Heath Jul 14
Kiss Of Kindness -

Speak to me that I might hear
Your smile upon ones aged ear
Reach out with soft gossamer
To touch to breathe to heal to cure
That I may pray in peace once more
Leave all evil nevermore
Melt again into blessed bliss
Feel the kindness of your kiss
41 · May 23
Martin Heath May 23
Burn -

Infested fears flirt with the flickering flaunting flame
Licking the remnants remaining singeing senseless shame
Waxed worries melting amongst the marbled mantelpiece
Ceases to amaze engaged in relentless retreat
From the fright of failure thrown against the noonday sun
To soon engulf the graciousness dire deeds undone
Burn burn the wick of wisdom's wit while voices prepare
The final fleeting fantasies of damaged despair

— The End —