Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen Poet Free verse

When Death Calls

When death calls, all is forgotten.
Chores are left undone.
Paintings are left unpainted.
Poems are left unwritten.
Suicidal ideation fantasizes.
The illusion of escapes rules.
Then, I go to the garden
Planting from dawn to dusk,
Escaping self-destructions.
One more time, I painfully wait 
So God can call me to eternity.
Tomorrow, flowers will bloom.
Photographs will be taken.
Life will be made full
Until the ideation returns
...to suck out my joy.

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Debbie Guzzi June 20, 2013 at 6:00 AM Yes being outside can do that for you! Love YOU [I'm going to help you find some ones to submit...rhyme is a hard sell stick in your none rhyming verse]