It stood on a throne,
Made out of lime stone.

It was clothed,
In colorless gold.

It wore a shadeless crown,
Above its brow.

Its heart was frozen-
From winters night.

Its soul was diced,
by Jack Frost's knife.

It stood alone,
In its quite abyss.
Dismissing my stare.

Though it was free,
It looked lost at sea.

For, I waited to hear a plea,
But it was silent as a willow tree.

Time passed-
And it started to bow

To the brown earth beneath its feet,
To the blue sky above its crown.

Though, the journey was over,
And the final Goodbyes were made.

I could never forget the pride in its eyes,
Or why it stood so still.

For to this day,
I question if I'll every discover,
If the White Rose knew,
Of its wonder?

Oh Death,
you my favorite card,
you my wildest courtship,
you who broke me open,
coaxed me into spilling my secrets,
and now,
you are gone,
leaving wreckage behind.

But wreckage is not
annihilation.

Oh Death,
you paved the way
for things I never thought possible,
razed the worst to the ground,
without even knowing.
I can feel the seeds of something
new and good
spring up within me.

Oh Death,
I don’t want to die.

Love is the touch of one with another,
the breeze blows the frond to brush the face
we experience the sensitive stirring of the cells
they send a message to the brain
that translates them
sometimes into this state we call love
because it is up to us to be sensitive to love
it is the sense of existence that gives us joy
fills our sense of well being
with something indescribable
makes the world a place of understanding and beauty
makes life worth living.

Margaret Ann Waddicor 3rd February 2015.

Necklace of rope around your neck,
Cold sparkled your tears,
Mingling in our kisses,
Drawing out fears.
Blood crows' broken beak,
Moonlight mourning the free.
Your glimm'ring eyes,
'Ere eve of death,
Last thing mine heart aches to see.
Strange things happen here,
Under the Hanging Tree.
"String me up!
Lest apartheid influence separation,
String me up love!
Sing me songs of silence, kiss away segregation!"
My voice unwavered,
Decaying church bell tolling twelve,
Cold, cracked fingers fumbling rope.
Moon lighting the way,
The wind whispering,"hopeless,"
Frigid lies hope.
Shuffling of feet in the woods,
Edge of moonlight creatures stood,
Watching the Hanging tree,
Where the dead told his love to flee.
                                                           ­       -**Firefly

To cast light upon shadows
To welcome silent moments
To see through the dark
To remember to breathe
To find humour in all
To watch the sun trade for stars
To forget the world
To treat all with care
To speak with passion
To learn and grow

Where are you my friend?
I know you search too.

Would you recognize me,
Given we meet again?
Or do I chase dreams.
Time is our only battle.
I'm think I'm experiencing hopelessness..  in the most beautiful way.