Untitled (No Date)

Justice is not queen

In love and in war

To live but not be seen,

Yearning, so forlorn

Writing about Love?

Thinking about Love

Knowing and learning about Love

Love-

Without definition

Without sign

Love-

With no intuition

The breath of a sigh-

Your love

      My love

                      Their love

                  Our love

None of us truly know “Love”.

~LA

…And The Wind… (Originally Written March 10, 2010)

I am alone

in despair

collapsing beneath

the old Oak tree

Twisted

Broken

where the lightening once hit it

Bleeding

Breathing

No more

So I say to those around me

‘Let us be invisible together.’

And so,

    The wind takes me up on my feet,

and the Lord moves his hand

to wipe clean my slate.

And the smile I found,

The happiness, The peace,

is here, with me

…And the Wind…

The ghouls and ghosts

of celebrations passed,

are here, with me,

…And The Wind….

And as we dance

towards the darkness

I turn my smiling face

to look back on those

who on a summer’s day

must look back on me,

Cold stone above,

Coffin below

As I lay

Bleeding

Breathing

No more

Beneath the Oak tree.

Now entombed

in green and gloss.

Those who laughed,

who turned away

Must now listen to my faraway laughter.

My laughter,

…And The Wind’s….

~LA

Open Them Up

There’s a type of person-

I’m sure you know them;

1-

0r 2-

0r 3-

0r 4-

Who speak not, want not and need not:

Like a book on dusty shelf they lie

With closed hearts and minds

Fingers wrapped around each other

Lips pursed or limply lying;

shoulder stooped and round

or razor-back straight.

With closed pages,

broken binding,

and dusty fading words

they sit

in anticipation

waiting-

waiting-

waiting-

For they have a voice, heart, and mind;

they speak, want and need.

They feel and see and know.

So

pry open their hearts

like that dusty old tome

and read-

read-

read-

for they are hiding in their depths

adventures and secrets alike;

Things that you have never seen or heard before.

Open them up

and stop the door.

~LA

On a Misty Moor

"The Cliffside"

Somewhere

In the shadow o’ the moors

There’s a mystic wind

blowin’ round.

Shapin’ colors, shiftin’ wings

Bringin ’round all sorts o’ mysterious tings.

But somehwere

In the shadow o’ the snow

There’s rain.

The rain is shiftin’ too,

Beatin’ barrels cross your bow

Sendin’ birds and bugs a’driftin’

But through the trees it’s just a’siftin’.

And somewhere

In the shadow o’ the rain

there’s sun.

Spillin’ cross our soft moors

Feedin’ the plants

All the roses in a row

All the animals; an’ us.

Just watchin’ us a’grow.

~LA