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Rain falls quietly

The piano fades away

It's my kind of day
Cold,
Sitting at the table,
Drinking coffee bitters,
To warm my Soul.

Looking out the window,
Through blinds of tall pine trees,

Unable to see your wondering Soul,
Unable to see your blooming heart,
Unable to touch a dream, carried by a warm breeze Far from the East.

A flickering candle,

The scent of  cherry blossoms,
Piercing the darkness,

A golden flame rises,

Golden skies,
Whites, pinks, and blues,
Floating high above the pines,

Embracing me with warmth,
Warm memories of loving you,

Painting a waking dream at sunrise,
Remembering you.



Copyright © 2016 Ronald J Chapman All Rights Reserved.
Painter of the wind- Line of sight
https://youtu.be/K98WSkl4rYc
You've hurt me once, shame on you.
Hurt me twice, shame on me.
But as much as I try, I can't stay away.
I will repeat the same mistakes over and over,
Hoping one day you'll realize, that
No one could ever love you like I do.
 Jun 2016 Faye Sasha Endroe
mar
A glass of water, twenty sit ups
I like the way you eye me like candy
yet avoid me like a time bomb
five minutes until detonation
six minutes to figure out what to say when I am near you

A walk around the neighborhood, one house with it's lights on
Some people say “I love you”
You say “Go to sleep”
they mean the same thing
but I'm not tired

A crooked chin, thirty minutes late
You only talk to empty chairs and darkness
You only love things from 1978
I could be your ghost
if you want me to

A tear stained face, two parents who don't care
“It gets a little lonely, pretending to want to be alone”
I only get up early on days you say you'll be there
Why does it always end up that I am on my own?
Always?

A calendar from last year, three bruises on my neck
What is your favorite type of silence?
Mine is the kind when everything that can be said has been spoken
The kind where no one has an excuse anymore
No more secrets
Thoughts over tea
We've hit the fifth steep
It's different from the last
But somehow more deep

And full, our words
And silence alike
This never-bitter waterfall
The warmth is just right

I'm using tea, today, as a
Metaphor for life
How wonderful it is
On steep number five
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