WrenWind

Happy B-Day *bakes a cake and lights the candles * enjoy your day

Would they notice

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If the dishes were done

the laundry clean ,folded and put away

the dog walked

the floors washed

the booboo kissed

lunches made

a warm body in the bed

Would they notice

the glass that was missing

the fist of wrinkles in one shirt

the broken glass in the garbage

my bandaged hand

the tears on the pillow

Maybe they will when i'm gone

Tender moments

over time and space we collect them

moments in time that are frozen in our memmories

a smile, a tear a sweet note

an eyelash brushed softly off a sleeping cheek

"I love you" whispered in the dark

little things remembered and stored

babies laughter

infectious bubbling wonderful

silly cartoons shared with a child

gather them, savour them

hold them close to your heart

these moments are what life is all about

Wind and storms are powerful things to many of us I found this among things I wrote about a year ago hope you like it.

Storm

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In the storm we are born.

From it we emerge.

Live in peace at its center for a short time.

Then to the storm we return.

For only there are we truly alive.

When the storm passes so will we.

To return on the next winds of fury.

Wren

I wish i could paint the picture that this poem fills my head with "Thank you for the post "

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On The Cliff

Standing on the edge of the cliff the wind of the incoming storm coating her in salt spray from the bay below her eyes closed in consentration oblivious to her soak through dress. Her arm rise slowly seemingly pulling the storm closer to shore

behind her at the edge of a forest a man stand motionless watching her.

i wrote this little snippet 06/06/03

the beginning of a story yet unwriten

Wren

Well done ...This one hits a nerve too close to home

*Reads it again with a smile in rememberance of time long past *

Lovely sentiment and well done .

On Sorrow

So intence it is felt

That hollow in the heart

even felt as a physical hole in your gut

but it forces you to look inward

to find out

that only you can pull yourself out and

to see the love that there is out there for you

and the sorrow you felt for the loss of one

make the next even more special

Spitit of a Different Kind

The hair on the back of my neck rises, the room feels soo cold. In the air a mist begins to weave and sway taking a loosely human form. I don't move or react for I have called this spirit to make amends. I hope. Even if it takes my life. The cost of the summons is great; my blood flows from sliced wrists onto a totem. The Spirit flows closer until it touches me. An icy cold fills me, surrounds me yet I feel no malice here. The guilt I feel was not mine to carry. No forgiveness is required. Spirit kissed, I lay on the floor in a pool of my offering and live to tell the tale.

Wren

Cool idea

I don't figure i will ever win but i like the way this particular contest makes you work with a specific set of words and limited number ..... a little brainwork each day i know about the other bit as i got the same thing about the conference and stuff .

Poetry in Motion ...they give you a selection of words and ask you to use up to 20 of them to create a poem 100$/day is awarded .. it is a cool exersize

Poetry in Motion Contest

This is what i came up with today

soft wind remembers love

laugh again

night falls

kiss desire

salty tear

everything fogs

heart holds love forever

Wren

Have a very Happy Birthday

or i am

Thank you

My mother tongue is english .

*waits with baited breath for the next post *

I can do that now i didn't know there was such a place till today.

last stitch and the sweater is done made to fit a lizzard type person tucks it all in a package and leaves it on the desk after her stange interview/sales pitch then. "Thank you " then strides out of the room leaving the youth serum behind and goes to find a good tall mug of meade.

Finishes a scarf and mittens ...... brushes off the cobwebs beginning to form on her skirts "Hmmmm" Looks around and see the que has not moved,pulls out a new colour and starts on a sweater

*laughs* I'm not 11 ... I wish

: this refers to an article read when I was 11

I spew things into notepad then copy paste

Lies

This is in its "not quite sure what i was thinking" state but figured it might benifit from being pulled apart. Have at it!!

Lies all lies

Every day I say I love you

lies

It's not that I don't care

I do

Love on the other hand

no

not the love you feel for me

Lies all lies

if I live it long enough will it be different?

I doubt

some day it will all catch up to me

Lies all the lies

This was written a few months ago and almost forgotten untill i read Dollar/China so i dragged it out .

China Doll

taken home

adored for a time

set on a shelf

safe from being broken

over time

forgotten

Thanks Yui *fixed*

Frozen

emotional frost covers my heart

i still love but there is no passion i'm not even sure what that is

somewhere along the way i have lost something vital, making all that i feel only echos of what they should be

controlled emotion everything wrapped in layers of rational thought ....

remembering a passage read as a child about why people cry

for pity

for happiness

for physical pain

but mostly because we feel sorry for ourselves

i doubt the author realized the impact his article would have on an 11 year old girl

it made me analyze every tear

now they are frozen along with the passion he forgot to include

Wren