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September Roses Dec 2018
You'll notice him in the busy streets of Peru, dodging vendors and laughing like the sun.
You'll notice her at a small diner past 2 a.m, lost in thought, meloncholy notes on her smile.
You'll notice him on a street corner wearing bold colours and singing
about the lives he's lived and the fools he's loved.
You'll notice her on mountain peaks, soaking in the wind with feathers in her hair.
You'll notice him weaving flower crowns and writing in his journals, squinting into the hot sky with dew on his lips.
You'll notice her kneeled on the side of the road, comforting a small animal she found with the voice of sweet honey.
You'll notice them, dancing at sunset, colours streaking across their face.
You'll notice them running through meadow fields in the early hours of the morning.
You'll notice them laughing like the wind, smiling like velvet, with whispfill sparks in their eyes as they sit by the waves at dawn.
They are the sun and the moon
The sky and the sea
Fire and the ice
They're not likely to tell you who's who,
In fact they're not likely to tell you who they are at all.
But even without the spoken reveal
Even without the clarity of meaning,
I promise that when you see them.
You'll notice
Gavin Barnard May 2016
This melody
Appeals to me,
My enemies,
My memories...

A meloncholy tune
Humming for me and for you.
Trust is long overdue,
Love has been lost among us two.

Earth's shade is in the sky,
The sun is on the other side.
I listen, teary eyed,
Yet not enough to make me cry.

Memories in my head,
Pondering what we could have been.
No will to go again,
No victor present in the end.

Suffocating regret,
I have three reasons to forget
Your malicious intent
For some temporary repent.
Gordon Lincoln Oct 2014
Lord, I sure got the blues this morning.
Woke up with nothing beside me, but a pillow and a stain.
The gray clouds crowded around me,
And that drizzle became a pouring rain.

I feel so melancholy -
when I hear your name.
The sibilance of those syllables,
Triggers a recall, Pavlovian pain.

Music's like a wicked woman!
Fickle and sour as a pickle she can be.
Before you go dancing with that damsel,
You better check out the scars on me.

There's a reason or three,
they call me, call me, call me....
Mr. Meloncholy.
karen dannette May 2015
All alone, again
Feeling meloncholy and captive
Within a cloud of intentional isolation
As each thought comes and goes without an answer.

Memories flicker in the crime scene of my mind.
My perception is clouded by questioning every suspicion.
As I try to stay unemotional and rationally make doubt my enemy.
This day has now ended and I have not made a decision.

Wondering when indecision and fear have intersected in my life.
Have I become so insouciant that I am blinded?
As I grow old and in my final hours, could this be my biggest mistake?
I am unwillling to dwell in the present and find happiness again?

Hours spent suffocating myself with regret
Tried to harden my heart to the point of no return
But, I perservere and try to rise above the abundancy of pain.
Licking the salt from my tears as they drip to my lips.

I now lay down, so silent that even my breath is quiet
Asking if the pain is worth the possibility of a true love that will last.
Will he crush my heart with unintentional love for another?
A chance, I guess, I am willing to take.  Or too soon?

I can only pray that the right answer will come during my slumber
And it will be within the will of my creator
Praying that my dreams will be filled with the answers that I seek
And tomorrow will be full of love, trust and loyalty.
I am truly facing a decision that can change my life in a good way.  It's really too bad that others in the past are trying to destroy a good thing.  But, I will try to see if our love grows and try to give us a chance.
Dear willow tree
How you enchant me
You provide a place to hide
From all inquiring eyes
You are my secret place
My great escape
Wrap me in your leafy arms
Keep me safe from harm

My mother's tree
You were thee
With all your meloncholy beauty
You mean so much to me
Your leaves hang off your limbs like vines
A perfect place to hide
I wonder if they admire hour beauty like I

Oh the things you must have seen
To make you seem so meloncholy
I want you to know with all your sorrow
You're still beautiful to me

You stand tall and proud
Away from the crowd
You are a cherished sight
Eminating might
You're so graceful as you sway
the wind begins to play
You always beg it to stay
But one day all things go away

But I want you to know
You will always be sacred to me
My dear willow tree
Laurie Fisher Oct 2011
Everyone seems to do, just fine on thier own
How come I can't stand, the thought of being alone
I'm spiraling down
Taking the innocent with me
I don't think I'll ever have the strength, I see in so many.

Darkness and silence surround me,
My horendous thoughts drowned me,
Happiness pursuades me
It pushes and it grinds
But I can't seem to find, the stability
Everyone has but, I.

I pout and vent at those around me
I give off an aura of nothing, but meloncholy
My vibes I send, aren't what you wish
If I could change these emotions
Trust me, I would in a flip

But I am stuck in a state
Of which I cannot explain
Its costing me everything; my life and my friends
None of them can feel, the pain that transends
So why be around me
I'm a burden with no mends.
OVC Sep 2016
I am sad today
It is not from love
But my family
What could they be doing?
Saying?
Without me being there?
There they are, far away,
And I here, so lonely
I want to cry, I cry in silence

My dear mother, how could she be doing?
My siblings, what could they be fighting over?
I don't want them to think of me
Or that they miss me
I only want their company and warmness

The bread is soaked in coffee
And we spend time together
Till we part away to dream

A *** of water is boiled
With some rice
We add cinnamon, milk and sugar
When everything is ready we wet the bread in it
And we all spend time together on the sweet morning
And from there we part ways until convening later in the day or night
To be a family again.

That is why I am sad,
I sleep and wake
The night and day
And it's only me
There is no rice,
No tea or coffee
Or the warmness of my family

I become saddened
Yeah.
Originally written in Spanish.
Feel free to correct my grammar and comment on the poem.
Oh, the *** of water thing is for a hot drink called atole, which is consumed early in the morning, late at night or in chilly days.
Thank you!
cat Nov 2013
Day by day,
night by night.
When the thought of you,
being so close yet,
so far away.
Around the same time every night,
your name pops into my head.
I just can't forget you.
Amanda Stoddard Feb 2014
the burdensome anxiety that is my life,
presses upon my stomach
like the birth given female trait
none of us wish to be "blessed" with.
it tightens my intestines
and makes me sick
as if the ***** i wish i had
had been severely kicked.

I have grown accustomed to
calming myself down
and panicing
all in the same minute
and i have watched my world
crumble in front of me
and rebuild
all in the same minute.
and i start to grow tired of the routine.

the inconsistency that has been
****** upon me unwillingly
makes me feel vulnerable
like i did
when I was small and fragile
wondering why
he had touched me
in places i was told were sacred.  

nothing is ever planned
and every moment is random
but why do i feel like
someone's sole intention
is to see me without sanity.
every moment could be sickness
every day could be happiness
every instance could be a trigger.

So what is the beauty of living
if not to prepare yourself for the inevitable,
what is the meaning of life
if not ineffable?
I have found sanity,
in dark paths of my past.
I have found insanity
in calm nights alone.
and somehow
even in times i was close to death,
clenching a bottle to my chest
i realized that hell probably feels a lot like home.
Helen Dec 2012
Such a pretty face
with a body beneath
a tattered dress
Yesterday a new moon
wearing a paper smile
escaped with finesse
Chandeliers of mistaken dreams
illuminates a petty farce
Cascading moonbeams
hide behind
a concrete mask
dance oh pretty one
dance for me
beneath the moonlight
dance, be free

Underneath a lace moon
wearing a concrete mask
dance in step
with meloncholy
while you laugh
David Nelson May 2013
Prolificus II

another day has come and gone
without a thought lingering
while the clouds of meloncholy
strum the magic harp
and the jester dances
with the bells on his toes
his words still ran freely
like a mountain stream
and his knowledge of
nothingness
flowed
endlessly
continuously
unwillingly

his logic still unlogical
rows after rows
not a rhyme or a prose
without adjacent adjectives
or proverbial adverbs
though sometimes a breeze
whispered the name
from the lips of Louise
distance and disdain
crossed their faces
like wheelbarrow races
meandering
thoughtlessly
rigorously
unending

pour me another one
would you barkeep
I ain't going nowhere

Gomer LePoet....
Titter tatter all the chatter
is it the paradox of construction

of an unseen core or a painful interiority

with an insistence on a dark meloncholy

which is it, which is it, oh which is it

is it unreasonable I ask, to persist obstinately

in sorrow

or is such a cause a despair of bitter corrosiveness

centered on that very paradox

who with astonishing vividness

conveys the spontaneous rhythms of the mind

a mind in motion that preserves unprcedented intensity

that reflects disturbing exchanges of intimate encounters

intertwined in unresolved vagaries that present themselves

with the passage of time

and view these dark attractions in the same moment

the same moment of becoming, yes at that moment

the moment of our death
This is for the imperfect drunk...
The hopeless ******....
I too have been the bottles *****....
Outweighed by a gram....
I seen the world at ground level....
Because shame kept my head heavy like lead...
The world had so many ideas that were spoken in meloncholy tones.....
With so many answers how could i fail.......
As i hurt myself one more time I reached for a band-aid.....
But with tears and pain in my eyes all i got called was failure....
Like a bruised muscle i nursed my broken soul...
And when I realized I no longer wanted superficial assistance....
It was easier on my pride to put down the evil....
Because the lies people fed were spoken taunts....
it may not have a "Why" or a " What"....
But my question is" Why" do you like to judge me when im weak.....
And "What" is the answer that will make you happy...
This is not "What" makes me happy..
"Why" cant you see that??
I see alot of people not valuing themselves because the world cant see the beauty behind there vices...... To all fellow addicts and alcoholics lets just be happy we made it.... As they say one day at a time....
Roberto Medina Jan 2012
Soar to the stars
Fly with the snowflakes into the immortal wind.
No specific destination just to the end of time
Boundless discovery, eternal elation.
Dance and embrace the harmonies, which surround you.
Sounds of the ruffling leaves surfing on the very current
Which carries you.

Landing is not in question as you inhale a second wave.
Take flight into the blissful night
Higher than before, rising to the sky as an eagle overseeing his kingdom.
As a cloud, taken by the breeze fullfilling it’s destiny in the infinite sky.
Open your eyes my innocent child.
Behold the wonder of yourself as you look upon the earth with a(n)
Naïve eye.

Make of it as you wish ,
Paint and tattoo your thoughts on a canvas of the mind
Embedding what you feel, not just what you envision
Relinquish the meloncholy that chains you.

Landing now becomes eminent,
Falling from the brilliant beauty of an illuminous moon.
Crashing on the concrete reality of what life truly is;
A nightmare to a dream
Gone with the breeze
With the passing of time
Nothing but silence
Only the sound of birds.

Memories etched within my mind
As I walk along the empty field
I remember football on the green
And walking along the river Cole.

Picnics on Sunday children played.
Cheese and tomatoe sandwiches
This field was filled with family joy
Those days have come and gone.

I look around not a soul insight
Things are so differant now
All those folk have moved on
And some no longer still alive.

So in my mind lie meloncholy thoughts
Those memories come flashing by
Memories of those happy times
Now all that's left is this empty field.
I recently walked my dog across the field were I grew up.
It was the days of picnics all my memories came flashing through my mind .
Tee Dec 2018
Get high off music
Meloncholy calls To me
He sells depression
DeAnn Nov 2017
I wonder why my writing is so depressing
I was told that my resting face is melancholy

To be honest, I don't even like melons
Marina Jan 2014
Lay alone in the dark.
Eyes closed staring at the ceiling.
My heart sinks inside my chest.
Thoughts spiraling out of control.
"Why am I here?"
"How long do I have left?"
It makes me feel so empty.
How most of my life is wasted.
Tossed aside by unnecessary things.
I don't want to be tied down.
By the miserable pleaurlties of my mother before me.
Explore, live in happiness, achieve my dreams.
That is the life I want to live.
It seems so unnatainable.
Out of reach.
I hide in the darkness for now.
In my own treacherous meloncholy.
Until that one day illuminates me.
betterdays Oct 2014
i am just days away
from turning.....
older.

and in truth,
meloncholy with it....

this year has stretched,
long and hard with
sickness, accident and death.

and my feet drag,
in self indulgent sorrow.
i should be glad,
to have survived.
i should live my time
with joy.....and  vigour.

but...the empty places
at the table
and the cards...
unsent.....sadden me.

perhaps,
this is just another sign
of the wonky biological
clock that is mine...
that now works
on peri-menopausal time
and this sorrow,
is just hormones and
little baby loves
saying farewell
as they waft
into the never to be....

i am still young,
somewhere within me
full of promise, pleasure
and passion pop...

but, the me
that groans
and creaks
and clicks
as i fall out of bed
to feed the cat...
the child, and the man
then washes the clothes
and goes off to inspire
a class of
bright young things
come home, cooks diner
writes fatuous poetry
while watching tv
before falling back
into the unmade bed

looks upon this weekends
festivities with dread...
and if honest....
would much prefer that it
all be forgotten....or kept low key.....
bah....humbug....
little grumblebug bitten me..
time for another load of washing...
i'll get with the program...i've got till next week....
ejrmaguire Jul 2015
Just this meloncholy sadness..
Loving you leaves me inept... drifting....
This overwhelming sadness about who we are... and who we aren't....
Loving in a way with the blinders off my eyes... leads to heartbreaking thoughts and realization....
Gone are those days when I didn't know better...
Loving you completely and truthfully....
Breaks me apart.... millions of shattering pieces of my heart...
Just this sadness.... of who we are and who we aren't....
So meloncholy when I think of us....
Such dramatic, painful ,wrenching sadness

E.J.M.
Moon Shine Mar 2015
I breath in and exhale
I'm trapped in the belly of a whale
Graffiti blanketed ribs, spotted with meloncholy *****
Pacing around a hot tar pit
Burning off a different face
For every human hidden in every place
But my friends didn't follow after me
The trail unto the fish in a glittering sea
My body will scream
But my mouth has seams
psychadelicmess Dec 2012
Taste me
With every bud on your
Tongue
She reminded.
Every tiny
Tingling
Bud,
Savoring sweet.

Hear me,
She urged,
Every vibrant
Vibration
Rattling rhythmic.

Inhale me
With all of
The strength in your
Motivated lungs
She advised.
Let me linger
Lustfully
In the pillows.

See me.
Not the reflection
In your meloncholy eyes,
She warned.

And he knew what to do
When the time came
And he felt her
With each
And *every

Nerve
In his body.
And he remembered her warmth.

And he knew what to do
When the tides turned.
And he knew what to do
When she told him
To miss her madly.
But he didn't know
What to do when

She was gone.
Delaney Jun 2015
I am
a massive wave of contradictions.
I am
too complex for myself.
I am
a lost soul,
searching for an anchor.
I am
the epitome of meloncholy.
I am
a mere flicker
in a world of glowing stars.
I am
me.
Whether I like it,
or not.



(d.d.b)
Don't question my late night thoughts.
Gavin Barnard Nov 2017
I remember my school days
When I would sleep late
And wake up early,
Chug my first of four Monsters,
And be completely fine,
Set aside a small headache
Thats become a part of my routine.

I would do whatever I felt like
During my favorite time of day,
The nightime hours,
Be it games or anime or poetry,
And when I woke up it was
School or more games on the weekends.

When I turned eighteen
I flew to MCRD San Diego
As a Marine Corps Recruit,
****** a few Drill Instructors off,
Laughed at their insults,
And enjoyed a four day bus trip home.
That took me all of august.

Two months of nothing later,
******* money from my family,
Dreaming meloncholy dreams
That'll never amount to anything,
And I'm staying up until three A.M.
Playing World of Warcraft
Because I need that monk
To be level seventy yesterday.

Then I'm sleeping until ten AM
But rising at noon,
Ready with a peculiar
Yet familiar headache
To level a character I wish I was;
Because its impossible to find work
And because there's nothing I hate more
Than laziness, depression, and myself.
I found this poem to be pretty **** good, so, exactlyish one year later, I made revisions. I mean, none of my poems are final, part of why I post them is for suggestions, not that I expect any.

Heres the OG Poem: https://hellopoetry.com/poem/1800559/power-leveling-at-three-am/
Mahwish Z Sep 2018
I am sick of trying
why could you not love me back?
why could not love me at all?
Said, tomorrow will be brighter day-
what hath stop us?
And now, you wouldn't even want to see me?
I am sick of trying
of these little games- of our love whispering
oh darling, I told myself- it'll be all fine.
I'd broke my heart, why did I imagine you to be my own?
why did I think that you could hold me, a little- if not for too long?
turns out- it was not you; just you never felt
besides, you are going away
but will you think of me, at all?
in some of your nights, or in some of your casual moments?
I suggested; an alternative- but this didn't suit you either.
while I wanted to ask- why couldn't you love me, a little?
says a little voice to me - that I can't -- since, it's all vanished.
looks like, it never happened- nothing ever really mattered.
while I write this, with your image in my head
my mind asks me million questions; why did I fell for you?
to myself- I am like a prisoner; of my behaviour- not loving those who love me dearly; falling for those who can't love me back?
have I not been loved enough?
oh darling- this is a nutshell of my heart
so wild, so carefree - it fell for you, unknowingly- and here I am;
writing; with bitterness and meloncholy- so sick of trying, and losing.
Tøast May 2018
Let me sit quietly in this house,
The early hours as the sun rises, casting shadows to show duality and warmth to show us love.
A bright blue sky to clear our minds.
But soon I'll be on my way.

Jumping between pages,
A shattered memory and a broken rib,
We burnt out the place my mind used to be,
Left ash piles and Polaroid pictures with little tiny people saved in an instant.
A memory of a meloncholy mood drifting up from my mind as my heart beats faster,
This anxiety is turning my Polaroids into matchsticks, my gut into a butterfly cage.

An ant in the headlights of a car, doesn't think what make and model the car is,
Yet I see my fears, my ghosts and my life and I can't help but be dragged on stage with them,
Analyse them and pester them, taking notes like it's my job, and writing until the voices in my head might finally be quiet.

I guess if I can't quiet my head, I'll leave it instead.
Say goodbye to this cigarette wasteland, with cherries and bongs.
This pyscotic diagnostic of a funny story I once heard, blended together until the lumps come out.
Well he's never been able to deal with himself, his mind, his monsters.. so you'll have to excuse him as he dives into concrete swimming pools, and tries to jump over houses to no avail.

Well he sees his floors in other people's houses, and feels anxious and scared.
You see, we don't like what's wrong with us, so we hide it and lock it away.
But if no one can see them how can they help?
You tell your children they're beautiful,
But it's only because they're your creation.
This is a problem with the world, we never tell anyone how beautiful they are,
So we all just sit like rhinos on mountain tops,
Defensive positions, walls up, guns loaded.
Until that one Disney butterfly flutters by, distracting some as they're drawn to it as it floats down stream and saves them from themselves.
Helen Oct 2018
I forgot to tell you
as we sat beside each other
on the floor
in front of a puzzle
I knew was flawed
That we’d never get to finish it
because of the missing piece
It was never going to be whole
but it could be perfectly incomplete
Because I forgot to tell you
there was going to be a gap
A great big hole inside the picture
that would never be closed
because the piece was lost
and it was never coming back
So I left something out
when I asked you to sit down
You thought you going to get a complete masterpiece
instead you got an empty space
and we both looked at it
Me with a meloncholy smile
You with a distant frown
You tried to deny the hurt
of the incomplete picture
all I could do was whisper
I know there is a missing piece
but I’m hoping you know how
to make it complete
Paul Donnell Oct 2016
And you...
You always show up in my dreams.
I can see your light dancing,
Glowing underneath.

Conversations shared in space
I think im astral projecting
You feel real when im asleep

I always snap awake,
Groggy and meloncholy
I Left the window cracked again
Cold air is creeping on my skin

And I
Hate its getting colder
And I
Know novembers closer
Hold on
The turbulance is growing
Nostilgia
tastes bitter when its snowing.

You are a phantom now and tables have turned.
This haunting winter air makes me lose my nerve.
I carry on till i can crawl into my bed
Fall asleep,
Hope i can see you again.

Your voice feels like cardiac arrest
System shock; overload

Your words grab me by the shirt
Lifts me up; magic force

Youre always there through the worst
In my dreams; i strain to hear
I listen out..
November hangs me again

30 days of hell

Im tied to the gray in these skies
Chains made of remembrance
Solitude is what i find.

The worst always comes
with the cold
Please show up..
Melt this world
Marina Apr 2014
In my brain, deeply embedded lies a single strand of memories. Perhaps a few months or of course, a year long strand of memories. Float past me on this meloncholy night in boats of alcohol and none stop regret. Slightly grazing my cortex is then constant image of your face. One I know so well but I try so hard to forget. How does one simply wipe away our past? Our love? Our laughter? Our long lustful nights? When I see you now it's as if all of that never took place. That me and you are complete strangers that never meet. I hate knowing that I have traced every single inch of your body. I've loved you unlike I have loved any other. Yet simply we can neve be and all those memories are useless and wasted. As much as I would pray to forget those moments spent with you. They will bring warmth eternal.
ejrmaguire Apr 2015
Moments ticking...
Time goes by...
I dream of dawn... orange red glow on the horizon. ..
Wind blowing. .
Fragile petals falling. ..
Caught in the breeze. ..
That sense of weightless falling. ..
That loss of control. ..
Decisions that are out of my hands...
The greenest grass..
The bluest skies...
That whipping wind...
I feel you in it...
Waiting for words that will never come. ..
Sun on my shoulders. ..
That flicker of sadness. .
A meloncholy nostalgic feel of you...

E.J.M.
betterdays Aug 2017
three bags,
two large
one small

two boxes,
of assorted
miscellany

photos of
one and all

two calendars
two clocks
one for the bedside
one for the wall

quilt and favoured pillow
one petite eletric recliner

assorted toiletries,
mostly pretty soaps

decorative pillows
nine in all...

this is what we moved
from place to place
gathering up the fraying
edges of a life unravelling
moving her one rung
closer to the divide

melancholy  thoughts
meloncholy thoughts

these are the small pieces
of a life lived large and hard

tears gathered in linen
as new friends  are lost
uncertain the path before
sadness at the cause

brave hearted she  is
at yet more loss....
brave hearted she is
at what lies before
we had cause... to move my mother, due to illness from her low assistance care facility to an high care pallitive centre...as she settled into the new room..she said ...only one more move now...
BB Tyler May 2017
Opening a moon-shaped box
gold, deep blue crescent
the dried sage
frosted teal
and the butane lighter in my hand

Slowing the breath, slowing the breath
and the beads from around my neck
one at a time pinched softly thru fingers

meloncholy red coral
and water in a jar
making space between them to sit

the sun is beyond the hill
and there is no longer a rainbow
at the window

hushed heart beat
but no stillness
in my chest

waiting is made a game in the mind
it moves thru itself
in good humor
or out of habit
always taking me with it
when i'm caught unaware
Michael Feb 2019
Today is a day I will never forget
Not even when Alzheimer's sets in
I was running around hectic donating your stuff
Like a German, Austrian and Frenchman in one
While remembering you and your life I had packed
I saw someone walk out of the store with your donated coat rack
Wondering will it fulfill for them what it did you
Wondering if they had thought of who it belonged too
Wondering what you were doing in Heaven that day
I moved past the meloncholy and got on my way
Back for another load of your stuff
I thank God that Jesus makes grieving less tough
What I mean is that we will still feel sad
But I have joy in my heart knowing where you are at
And so you may not be here I know you've carried on
Like your coat rack to another home, you live on
In Memory of my mother (who passed away on February 5, 2019).....during one of my trips donating some of her stuff....I noticed someone carrying the coat rack I had donated on her behalf....Copyright 2019
Hopeful Ponderer Apr 2017
Spring
Passing
Like a swarm of bees
A meloncholy change
Momentary sneeze
You wonder what's the buzz
The fuss
Where's the charm
That used to hold you captive
And had you so disarmed

Spring
Well, for a moment anyways
Daffodils, azaleas bloomed
Against the blues and grays
Of an overcast sky
A cold snap,
Then a freeze
That paralyzed the beauty
Beneath the bright green trees
And weeks passed by
And petals fell away
And color faded out
To just another day

But fortunately the dogwoods
Show up just then
You think the show's over
Then they come sweeping in


VSM '17
Jessi Apr 2019
tell me, love
does the world end for you
as it does for me
over
and
over
and
over
again

does it's genesis
startle you awake
the next morning
as you feel for the empty space next to you
things were too good to be true

but nothing surprises me much anymore
and the cups of meloncholy lovers have
overflowed before
into puddles of what shouldn't be

don't make it hurt
my love
please
be gentle with me
my shield is not yet fully formed
you see
ejrmaguire Mar 2015
We meet in our place every time...
Amidst the Pines and scrub...
In the dirt..
In a forest full of sun...
All these trees and no shade...
Our place reminds me ...
of Robert Frost and the path least taken
We leave our mark in this place as time goes by
And seasons change...
Like the mark you leave on my heart each time...
A meloncholy happiness that is us...
I always get a sandspur when I see you...
That small invasive stab to remind me what we are...
The beautiful green of the trees and the wind in your hair...
The brilliant sun upon my face as we kiss deeply...
I take us all in and treasure these moments. ..
Never knowing if we will have them again...

E.J.M.

— The End —