You are an artist
A sculptor who crafts fine works
But you also sculpt with your mind
And beautiful imagery written in gold
Flows across the page
You are the gentle rains of spring that nurture us
The summer sun that warms us
The bounty of autumn that feeds us
In winter you are the crackling log fire that comforts us
When you leave you will leave with our love
But you will steal our souls
You are the Soulsurvivor but we are not
Soul less we will be cast upon barren ground
There to wither and die
For without a Soul we cannot survive

She started out a social drinker
Socializing now all the time
At first her taste was all over the place
Then she settled for the flavor of wine

Wine is now her favorite go to
Whenever things get a little ruff
It gives her the feeling she's doing okay
Cause she never hits the harder stuff

And with one glass at lunch she wouldn't call it a crutch
Just a little something to help her on her way
Being high noon it always helps to smooth
The wrinkles in the rest of the day

Pretty soon though she'd bring the bottle home
To take the edge off what life has made
Just a glass or two to carry her through
Till the troubles magically melted away

She never considered herself a wino
As she doesn't live down on skid row
Does she need a sign painted in day glow
For the truth to really be known

I have memories
That could be mine,
Selfies of other times.
Gray matter shots
That morph and shift,
Blur and smear
Yet shine.

My phantom snaps
Have smoke and mirrors,
Spectres with borders.
The smell of bacon,
A rising sun,
A carpet hill
To lay upon;
A door that swings
To past future,
A window to see through.

My astral albumn
Haunts my nights,
No light can dim my view.
I think my thoughts
Are photoshopped.
These memories of you.

Today was the morning like other days
but I cannot focus my mind just strays
the empty bowl stings with dull pain
like her would be none ever again!

I light the gas and look around
for her purr’s faintest sound
seek in air a long known smell
silky caress of a raised up tail!

Two deep blue eyes don’t beg of me
to love for love given freely
morn’s kitchen is only grey
where she haunts from yesterday!

These winter days she craved me close
if I refused lap sighed morose
softly spoke her petal face
I wouldn’t ever love you less!

She hid her away when strength failed her
beyond all eyes to quietly suffer
not let me know on what sunrise
dreaming of me she closed her eyes!

I've got a talking parakeet
That counts loose change in my penny tree
He only makes it up to ten
Before he looses count and has to start again

The cat I have sits below
The penny tree as if to know
One day the parakeet will fall asleep
And fall out of the penny tree

There is a dog ******* nearby
That watches from the corner of his eye
Little do the cat and parakeet know
He untied the rope ages ago

I wonder who will be the first
To get the deal that is the worst
I only know it won't be me
As I own the penny tree