Love me like it was only yesterday
Hold me as if i am there today
Please god I don't want to fade away
I only want to stay
Watching the flowers in May
But theres nothing I can say
For I died that day
My spirit can't find a place to lay
One by one my respects they pay
Here I must sit listening to her play
The sad song she sings among the hay
Darling, I have found my way
Your song having been the sun ray
to the darkness that it slay
I'm the wind, watch the trees sway

The ebbing life of leaves--
my long ago heart
like a dream catcher hanging on

I cannot persuade you,
bear no gifts of consolation
or reconciliation,
just lonely poems, meeting
clay feet on mother earth

rosemary and lavender hint at our passing
the scent of us
leaving nothing behind,
the forest grows wild again
like a vacant stare.

Animal

I pace side to side
trapped insde
I’ve lost my speed .
and can no longer run
my reactions are slow to come
but I still hunt and feed
to stay alive

my wounds cut deep
I smell of death
I’m easy to find

my will is strong
I am ruthless
cunning by need
and when I strike
I strike to kill
to save my life
and hold what is mine

I feel this morning
like Jairus' father
when he saw with his eyes
the work of God.

Who is like Him,
I ask?
I've never even heard of another God
Who can do the things He does.

There is no room
for debate,
philosophy
or discussion.
I've seen Him myself.

The Lord took me to the pit
to show me how deep,
and fearful,
and hopeless it is.

But He took me by the hand,
and never released me.
I tell you,
the Lord pulled me up
to safety.

How good are the wings
if we can't feel the wind in our face
how good are the waves
if we can't feel their passion

Inspired by SCRIBBLER! just post 1 stanza at a time to continue the poem. Let's see where this goes.

Groping in the darkness...
Where is it? WHERE IS IT!?!
Looking for the cold release of steel.
Frantic in the search for death.

Pythagoras was a music critic
all things in relationship,
harmony and proportion is beauty
the universe is ordered,
sequenced and nuanced

all planets are aligned with clouds
of free thought,
in its center, we are lovers
making love
ascending
and descending, blending ripe
juices of conquest

I am Frida wild on your fingertips

sometimes the best poems are a
canvas
created from nothing,
sometimes we have
nothing to say, sometimes we break
down, lacking even the scorch of air

The leaves about are mostly green
but many have become bright red
as crimson as bold roses seen
in midst of any flower bed.

After the thunder, all is still,
nary any type of wild birds sing.
The slightest whispers now sound shrill
and bitter haze makes tired eyes sting.

The passing tempest left trees shattered
on both sides of this rutted road
where once horse drawn hearses clattered
while transporting their dismal load.

I remember the first time
My parents took me to school
I wore an oversized white shirt
Tucked into a large brown khaki shorts
With braces hanging on my shoulders
I stood in the middle of the class
With a black slate and chalk in hand
Like a fish out of water, quivering
The sight of the teacher with a cane
Made me afraid and I cried

Booze Hound entry three 

Noticed Lou watching me
Typing upon her iPad 
Furiously recording
my mishaps and my triumphs  

God that bitch is scary 
Tried to lose her
Running down side streets
Dodging into pubs

Breathless and about to pass out 
drenched in alcohol laced sweat
Hiding in doorways 
But she still observes

I fall over and play dead
On a pillow made of my own vomit,
she still pursues, and posts my news
Booze Hound and his daily abuse.