~

Crimson clover round the bend
Parted of a sorrowed tool
Planting phrase on what is said
Who now stands the empty fool

In this garden, sheer delight
Wilted from the summer heat
Fenced in by a stone of white
Destined to be incomplete

Oh the beauty it hath lost
When your eyes did cast away
Counting change amidst the cost
Of this bloom now gone astray

On this bench of marble form
Headless statues bid adieu
I shall sit her in the storm
Clinging to the thought of you

For this rain shall find my weep
Fills the puddles of despair
Deep within their hollows keep
Nothing less that I’m aware

Loneliness, this garden seed
Found of hedges twist and turn
Taken from the soiled need
Am I ever soon to learn

Here behind an iron gate
Draped in vines so long now dead
Brittle touches prove too late
Of the love my heart has bled

As the sun does set the field
Now as darkness comes to play
Time I find my fate is sealed
Lonely gardens I will stay

And I find myself walking backwards
To attempt at holding on to your memory...

Please don't go.

Please...

i keep thinking
about you
and loving
everyday of my life
i miss you

Poetry is like gusts of fresh air
Harbinger of the soul’s catharsis
Flowing emotions through the pen
Concealed pain written across the pages
Healing the pain which was long buried

a man rummages a trashcan for his supper
others stare at their plates
complaining the lack of ketchup

death is a silent guest
sitting round the table
waiting in turn

An open
ear
that can't
be seen
will hear
all the
truths that
lie beneath.

Tears have a strange comfort as appropriate response to the brokenness of this world.

take my kindness
and throw it
back in my face.

Go ahead;
walk all over
me and use
me as you may.

Go ahead...
do exactly
what everyone
else does-

I'll remember
*all of it