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 Mar 2015 Dorothy A
MG
Gratitude
 Mar 2015 Dorothy A
MG
Thank you.
Thank you for making me forget the stars.
Though they are always watching,
You silenced their shine.
They brought you to me,
Making you mine.
And for that I love you.
 Mar 2015 Dorothy A
Jayd Green
you are a collection of my favourite senses.

you are the smell of smoke
of a fire that’s just burnt out
the drifting
curling grey
the ash
glowing still

you are the too-bright sun in my eyes
blinding
disorienting
and yet still beautiful and necessary
the pagan in me
worshipping your descent to earth
like an angel
who simply wanted to greet me

you are the feel of a fur coat around my neck
soft and warm
comforting, like a mother’s touch
but also a thrill, unsettling
the feeling of death kissing my throat

you have the taste of aphrodisiacs
chocolate, wine and
avocado
the juices of our chemistry
dripping from the sides
of my mouth
your smile wide
at the open euphemism

you are a collection of my favourite senses
and when i kiss you i am

senseless
 Mar 2015 Dorothy A
Judypatooote
WHAT MAKES ME HAPPY....
A MEMORY OF SPRING....

On the first day of SPRING I would look for the first CROCUS to pop up....sometimes through the snow.

And the GRAPE HYACINTH, oh so little and purple...they would even pop up through the ivy...that strong ivy which took over everything in the yard
.
Nothing smells better than the MOCK ORANGE BUSH. One with dark green leaves and beautiful white flowers, and one with light green leaves and the same beautiful flowers...

And behind the tree, I would find a stray TULIP blooming, stiill in it's ***...Is that the one I threw out last year the one I thought was dead?

The smells of Easter when you walk into a store that sells flowers...LILLIES, TULIPS, HYACINTH, and SWEET VIOLETS.... I worked at Franks Nursery for 7 years and enjoyed those smells every SPRING.

And looking out into the field next door that was filled with the SWEET VIOLETS...purple  clusters and as I walked out to check them out I would find a patch of WHITE VIOLETS.

This special memory of SPRING FLOWERS, is a wonderful memory of hubby. Unfortunately he passed away the day after he planted all his Spring flowers. But for years I would go out to find them blooming, knowing he was smiling down on me.... Now the ivy took over, and I moved away, but never forgetting the FIRST day of SPRING and the FIRST CROCUS to pop up.
time changes some things but never the smell of flowers...
 Mar 2015 Dorothy A
epictails
She was a spider
who spun and spun
webs of lies
which grew bigger and bigger
until all her fine spider legs
got entangled
she could breathe no more
and her web became her world
until she weaved her own undoing
strangled by the threads of untruths
This is for a friend I truly care about who got addicted to lying she doesn't even know who she is anymore.
You know more about me
than any stranger should.
You know more about me
than any friend could.
It's not always easy
to post the things I write
Because they are more of myself,
that I don't like to share.
My poems are me and me alone.
I hope you like them,
but more, I hope you like me,
even if I'm a mess.
 Mar 2015 Dorothy A
Mandy Blu
We took our turn and tried our best
To find success in a classic game
But with our love put to the test
Found lions much too tough to tame

Young love blooms before two fresh eyes
Which saw their colors brightest in May
But when that flower wilts to die
Best pull its roots than let it stay

Two stars in the sky made to grant
Two wishes one yours the other mine
And you may wish for what I can't
But changes not the ended line

We tried our best and that is true
But do not forget that love can end
For with good time I Firmly knew
This was not love I wished to mend
I won't give up this time because I am strong.
Copyright 2-25-2015 Elizabeth Lawrence ©
I can cling to a golden thread of desperation if you put it within my reach
I can wrap it around my fingers and toes
I hope to cut off circulation until every breath of mine is a beautiful violet
I can twirl on the tips of my toes until the world around me turns faster and I am standing still
I'm not in wonderland
My teeth are made of glass but no matter how hard I clench my jaw, they refuse to break
My eyes are growing blades of grass within them but my ******* lawn mower won't start
Why do I always expect to be cared about?
Why are you always the martyr?
Why is it my job to take care of you when I still have to learn how to take care of myself?
Why can't you let branches grow from yourself and be your own **** person?
You follow in my footsteps like you are afraid of making your own imprint on this earth
Dig your feet into the ground and stomp
Create earthquakes with the impact
Shake down every brick building that was built up to block the sun from reaching your eyes
I was not put on this earth to be your protector
Your protector is within the thread of the leash you tied around my neck
I'm choking on air and you pluck it out of my mouth and swallow it whole and still complain of not being able to breath
Stop walking behind me and start running beside me
Gold is only found where you look and so far, you pretend to be blind
Stick legs don't bend but they break pretty **** easily
The flowers sprouting out of my ears are wilting
Recycled ideas should not fill your head
Your own ideas should
The thread tied around my wrists is yellow and black
I can't find the strength to snap it
I'll spend my empty days unraveling it, only getting it tangled up again
I don't really know who this is about tbh
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