My girl is away for a while and I can still time
When I am with her, I can still feel her
We shared coaches on a long train and passing the fields
The countryside was different now

It was beautiful when she was near
She was a beautiful girl that I revered
I didn't deserve her

My love is in my heart and there it swallows itself
Guiding me through life and processing the jagged edges
Along the way, when she left
I didn't deserve her I said, but a cuckoo still sang for my vanquished state

Not of ancient lore,
or some cross to bear.
But here. But now.
No Prince Charming
at the castle door.
Only her, Miss Damsel herself.
In some paper city,
called Zilch,
where things fall apart fast.
She's trapped in no tower,
but a loft instead.
With tin-foil crown,
she climbs across
the kitchen table
to slay the dragon,
in the flames
of his own black-hearted
bedevilment.
A dagger to the heart
of the matter,
and all is quiet again.
Then with a satisfied yawn,
she retires for her afternoon nap.

I'm getting closer to calamity
where stars collide with infinity
the galaxy is not a place to be
especially if you're me.

I saw you perched there,
Like a cat in a window-
Cliché to say the least,
but beautiful nonetheless.

Moonlight glinting off your hair
bathing the room in silver.

Change the 'in' to an 'and' and remove the 'n' from 'window'-
A Cat and a Widow, humorous right?
"The old cat lady,"
Imagine that, another cliché.

the flowers growing on your lips
make it hard to remember
is this a part of me or a pretender?
do I fight this or do I surrender?
I’ll see, with a kiss
from there I’ll go
ohayō, lips

My existence is like a million tiny stars,
All bright burst followed by infinite blackness.
It is supernovas then the space vacuum.
It would be  loud
If anyone could hear it.

I like to take my memories for a walk
Every now and then
To chat and reminese
It's at times quite intense
But what isn't
To look back see from here
To chat and hear it again
Quite refreshing
I must admit
To take a walk with the memories
It's good every now and then

© Jennifer L DeLong 10/2020

The leaves fall
There is a light touch
Of uncanopied sun