Posted in favorites

Why Do I Love You, Sir?

Because—
The Wind does not require the Grass
To answer—Wherefore when He pass
She cannot keep Her place.

Because He knows—and
Do not You—
And We know not—
Enough for Us
The Wisdom it be so—

The Lightning—never asked an Eye
Wherefore it shut—when He was by—
Because He knows it cannot speak—
And reasons not contained—
—Of Talk—
There be—preferred by Daintier Folk—

The Sunrise—Sire—compelleth Me—
Because He’s Sunrise—and I see—
Therefore—Then—
I love Thee—

-Emily Dickinson-

Posted in original

Dry Tears

dry tears cover my face, it chokes me, it drowns me

I become mute, have I become hollow?

the smell of my soul is putrid and I feel..

…I feel, drained

everything has escaped me; I’m dry as the desert

empty as a shell

cold as ice

I did not choose this, I feel like giving up

suddenly I feel so tired

stained, dried up, hopeless

…………….

I’ve been wrung, squeezed so tightly

that nothing seems left in me

dry tears swallow me, whole

shut the door for I am covered in awful gunk

I am sinking deeper into this quicksand

I have nothing, nothing, nothing left in me

I am hollow,

empty and

all dried up inside

Posted in love, original

When You Think Of Me

When you think of me, I hope you think of sunshine

Of rain on a land on drought

Or of the stars to light your dark night sky

 

When you think of me, I hope you remember your happiest moments

Your unforgettable experiences

And the dreams that you want to reach

 

When you think of me, I hope you think of your favorite food

Your favorite color, shirt, movie, cartoon

Sum up all your favorites and it will equal to one word…..me

 

When you think of me, I hope you remember the girl in college

The one you rarely noticed

The one who felt strongly for you

 

When you think of me, if you could even remember me

If by chance I cross your mind

I hope you remember my name, my face

and I hope you think of me often, until

Posted in original, special

Dear Edgar

Dear Edgar, how could you have felt so alone

when my heart you claimed your own?

Remember the happiest day you had,

in silence you sang a song of glad?

And do you remember the serenade for Annie you made?

it was simply beautiful, she was not dismayed

 

You dedicated to Helen and Elizabeth, each a poem

but none more beautiful than that of Annabel’s glum

Under the evening star, you went into a dream within a dream

where your mind was not your own and you screamed

You went to the city in the sea ; a place farther than fairyland

where the spirits of the dead, lay rest in the sand

 

Now you are among to one in paradise and to one departed

and so this poem to you I dedicated

In youth you have known one, in death many have known you

you continue to inspire and touch people who are both happy and blue

And may wherever you are, I pray in peace you rest