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your name

your name 
could you even tell me your name
has it always been the same
by any other?
all I sense are thorns

tell me I am mistaken
that you still smell as sweet

from your balcony 
from strange heights
tell me your story

was it written at night
when only birds travel through wonder
did you let your hair down
when sword became pen

with whom did you volly
was it only I in the corner of your eye?
or did you lend out for debates
passionate arguments with
double dealing pastors of hyperbole

are you still the one who bore the name of my quiet love?
quiet though it was for we spoke so little
are you still she?

your name bears more time, more life than before
your face says so little of sorrow
tell me now 
how did this play become so tragic?

I see knights and steeds and caliber of deeds increasing by the week
why these walls so tall
like those in Jericho Kansas after the snow fall

why such a fight in this enchanting place
full of star dust and elation
your hair glitters with the flakes of snow
dancing in blue moonlight

I thought I saw you smile there
once before
long ago when we sparkled with the ignorance of youth

tell me now 
where did the shine go?
even in mines there is still light

I can see it there in your eyes
the emeralds with ivory cameo
opals that catch the light
and wonderment of new life

Blossoms need rain to grow
she said
so i cried rivers and let the wild things grow

cherry blossoms and an apple grove
daisies and dandy long legs imitation of spiders
night crawlers and bees 
all needed to grow anything worth a harvest

i cried a thousand oceans so i could swim in the sun
the air is warm and smells like candy

a private fair at lake bliss
and you have dared to come near
my name is new because yes i am too

gone are the days of lore and conjecture
replaced by serilized truths 
the repeats of broken tunes
you dare to come near

I have only one thorn
red hot in burns
trial by fire methinks
for imposters who left jestering for those with better shoes

the heat of it will cleanse any wounds
it may scar deep and bright but it won't infect 
it won't cause illness
couldn't have that

i only wish to leave my mark 
then i will make more gardens. 

Copyright © | Year Posted 2019

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Date: 4/30/2019 11:57:00 PM
"Blossoms need rain to grow she said so i cried rivers and let the wild things grow" - Your metaphors are fantastic, especially this one!
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