Grasping the Hands of Time

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Clothed in a satin sleeveless gown
With a rich crimson shade
I stand and look down
Meeting colors of white and jade
Fragrances of much enchantment strengthen
As the stairs, I climb
Wishing it were possible to lengthen
Or possibly grasp the hands of time
Causing the hands to stay at 10:09
And never rise nor decline.

For as I continue to stroll towards the comforting air,
The music seems to stop, as I receive many a stare.
I look around, I realize and see.
That what they are staring at is me.
They see only beauty and grace,
Not the sad, tormented look in my eyes on my face.
Suddenly I am filled with thought
That roses wilt
But true love does not
For precisely at this moment I spy, I see
The love of my life sitting near the Christmas tree.

I thought he never wanted to see me again
Still remembering that time when
A boy who I will never miss
Bent over and stole a kiss
This act angered me to the core,
But what hurt me so much, so much more
Was to see my real love standing
Standing head lowered by the door.
A cold tear flows
From his beautiful face
The cold wind blows
As I dash to his place.
But he is gone,
He is no longer there
Leaving me in a state of despair
For I have created a heart beyond repair

I was apparently incorrect,
For he is there standing tall and erect.
I’m assuming he was the witness,
Of the time I yelled at the culprit,
The stealer of the kiss
Suddenly, something wonderful happens there
His eyes meet mine
His eyes so fine.
Nothing in the world could prepare
Prepare me for what happened next
For I was asked to play a song, French for by the light of the moon
A song for many known as “A clare de la lune”

So down I sat upon the chair
And I began to play.
For that instant I was no longer in despair
The world seemed to turn and sway.
Soon almost everyone left the banquet hall.
Soon my tears begin to fall,
Remembering the day when I lost it all.
I stand there by the window cold and sad,
Recalling good times I once had,
My vision is suddenly black.
As soft, warm hands touch my face,
My tears are held back.

I turn around at a steady pace
And am greeted with a sweet kiss and embrace.
From the heavenly saint,
Who can play soccer and paint.
His smile worth all the diamonds, rubies, and sapphires
The world aspires
Aspires to give
Not all the lilies common or rare
Can compare
Can compare with him and his presence.
For in the essence,
The essence of the moment
He went and brought my present.

He asked me not to peek or stare
For that would be unfair.
So I did as told and closed my eyes
Excited about this great surprise
He placed it on my neck with care,
A necklace more fair,
More fair than any other.
A mirror he set, he set in place.
And I used it instead to gaze at his face.
His slightly red hair began to shimmer
This angelic being, so divine.

As a song of memories past
Filled the room, subtle yet fast.
We dance under a moonlit night.
He holds me tender, he holds me tight.
Now from this moment I believe
In the magic which comes with Christmas Eve!
(By the way this romance
Everything from the gown to the dance
Was entirely fiction completely untrue
Although, I think it’d be grand, don’t you?)

The world smiles, even when I can’t

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Slanted Sunshine
Falls into my bedroom
A pleasant sleep
A calm morning befalls me
Slanted Sunshine
Falls into my bedroom
A troubled sleep
Dread overcomes me
No matter how I sleep
No matter how I feel
I am always greeted with
Slanted Sunshine
The world Smiles
Even when I can’t

Where I’m From (throwback Thursday)

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I’m from corduroy jackets and denim jeans.

Running water and yellow Gatorade.

Sometimes when it rains for the window panes never lie,

I’m from wet sidewalks and damp fur.

If Scrabble is out and music pulses through my heart,

Then you know that’s where I’m from.

 

On occasion, if thunder and lightening lurk near,

The warm covers of my bed

Along with an old movie are where I’m from.

Warm pizza and Pepsi-Cola,

As well as silent laughter of a close friend are where I’m from.

When you can fall asleep to the cites

Of a fantasy land with a glass castle-

That is me.

 

I’m from oil paintings of mysterious night skies-

The kind of creases that fascinate my fingers.

The love and joy that I possess flows every so slowly

Onto the canvas before I am even awake.

When the lighthouse I’ve portrayed jumps off the page,

That’s where I’m from.

 

Every so often Harry Potter casts a spell on my world,

And nothing precious to me can be taken away.

My senses celebrate the magic I nourish them with,

For although they cannot tell a soul, they keep my treasures safe.

 

I’m from scraped knees and bruised shoulders.

One kiss and it is all better.

Where I’m from, long walks on the beach

Make for pleasant conversation.

“Mine the darkness and see the path you leave behind.”

Sometimes there is darkness in the distant trees,

But when the night sky is shimmering with shooting stars,

That’s where I’m from.

 

The place where I often dwell is in the front yard with all my flowers.

My lungs praise the October air, and the leaves delight my vision.

Sparkling bubbles from the fountain drizzle onto my body-

That’s where I’m where.

Wonder

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Will you meet me with a grin?

Will you meet me sheepishly?

Will you embrace the compleixties that are me?

Will we laugh off the silence?

Will we talk about deep, engaging things?

Will you make me smile wide?

Will I leave happy?

Will I go wishing it was different?

Or will I go back home, enchanted to meet you?

Thinking about my Superman…

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Life is so lovely, most of the time. 

Most days are pure sunshine and love, but sometimes things happen and the day is rough to say the least.

There are days full of love, joy, deep laughter, fragrant coffee, exercise, hiking, films that thrill, friends and family and so much more 

There are days not as joyful, days where the sun just doesn’t shine and if it does I can’t appreciate its beauty. The gloom weighs me down and the light just disappears.

I lose my sparkle. Or at least I feel the sparkle is melting away…

They are so painful, sad, and lonely. They are horribly cold, almost soulless days. Tears and trembling. I must push along and make it to better days. I push forward and think of who I have to lean on. 

When I think of my superman, the man who will be my everything, I don’t think of a replacement for coping. I think of a shoulder to lean on.

So during the great, sunny days, filled with so much joy it overflows. The days of love, happiness and content I think. When I think of my superman I think, no matter if the days are gloomy or happy that he will stand by me. 

The Christmas suitcase -Magic

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The spellbinding suitcase

Appropriately scarlet in color

That splash of burgundy wine add to the allure

There was magic within

Every kind of wrapping paper was a win

Streamers and ribbon by the yard

Spill out of every corner as soon as you begin to unzip it

Being an aesthetically pleasing gift was not hard

The glitter and the satin nametags

Rolls of green and crimson and gold

Were something to behold

When I opened the zipper and peered inside

I was happy to abide by my mom’s wishes to find

The most beautiful paper

Which was a dilemma; they were all the epitome of beauty

So I closed the suit carrying what I found to be the only solution

One of everything, some silver, some gold, some green

All of it against the wall to lean

Until I venture here once more