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She's a messianic complex,
She's way too self-absorbed;
She's not the centre of the universe,
Nor the orbit of my world.

She's not lit beneath the spot light,
She's not the colours of a rainbow;
She's not the sun or inconstant moon,
Nor the North Star of my nights.

She's not the compass for direction,
Nor the warm winds of my winters,
Or the cool rains of my summers;
But she's my predilection,
It may sound misconstrued;
It may be a prediction,
It may as well be true:
*It's hard for me to live this life
If life's not lived with you.
"inconstant moon" was used in R&J;, somewhere around Juliet blathering on about not being compared to a moon. Romeo should have figured it out then.
 Jan 2017 William A Poppen
ryn
The box remained shut.
His fingers probe but with invisible eyes.
Finding the clasp that had forgotten the last time.
With the lid pried open,
the dancer would soon arise.

•••••

As expected, she rose...
Accompanied by a tune, truly a haunting sound.
She slid and pirouetted.
She fulfilled the promise to which she was bound.

Her routine was well rehearsed.
She embodied the music, as it carried her.
It mattered not if it was for a single audience.
She cared not if there was no other.

She performed like she might never again,
she inhaled the moment like it was her last.
She sung the song silent like she always would,
she embraced her dance like sail unto mast.

Then the melody slowed,
as the tension in the spring
played itself unwound.
This day for her, had drawn to a close...
But renewed hope for a new one is found.

•••••

He hesitated before resting the lid upon its case.
He caressed his dancer as his eyes start to smart.
His ears would yearn for the song in his head...
He would surely miss the dancer in his heart.

But he knows
when days grow dark
and filled with strife.
The music box lies ready...
And his dancer will again
come to life.
 Jan 2017 William A Poppen
nivek
Shadows play a gentle game
and the departing tide moves slowly
a bird finds shelter where it may
from the falling sky, wet heavy cloud
a drink for all thirsty life to flourish
when it rains, it rains for everything
animals, plants, and people,
I give thanks for the rain, so beautiful
a shower, a storm, and the rainbow.
The spider was watching Cathy finish her cake.

Thank God, it thought, she hasn't seen me
green me hiding in the green grass, it was grinning.

Why are you so scared of me, Cathy?
do I look ugly, mean, harmful?
once I saw me in a dewdrop
on a blade of grass
the reflection was quite majestic
my eyes were dark as the deep sea
held only peace and no malice.

You too are so cute Cathy
a butterfly in the meadow
on the sky a sparkling rainbow
and how I would have loved
spin my web right there
in the thicket of your hair.

Cathy was singing.

It needed her one glance
to see the spider dance.
Thought to begin the year with a children's poem :)
 Jan 2017 William A Poppen
nivek
Deeper the silence
slowly inexorably
still silent centre
calls forth her children
be still and listen.
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