With animosity I endure each pain
Read each word as they describe disdain
Do not compare or look for blame
Distill yet comforts release the gain
The outer world always preaches
while villains they reign like leaches
Do not give solace or even fame
Realize the love that comes from your name
Though long placed aside inside it stayed
Though only through words love was made
I recognize my loss by absence named
Yet I returned remembering our game
Time has past and it’s my still my move
I pause to think how to enter the groove
I cannot blame cold shoulders for my desertion
I still after time I held on to my devotion
And try to caress with words that charm
I try to take away the alerts and harm
And reach for times to reminisce
Use you as the tool my Muse gives bliss
You replace the widowers loss
As well as take place
of the Ex’s I’ve crossed
But in this outer world you remain
At least I hope that to regain
I don’t know what we are
Yet I know not insane
I could be your doll you be my game
And still resolve our lonely pain
While being one another's eternal flame
Charlotte made the prettiest candles we had ever seen.
Utilizing found things in the woods – acorns, pine needles, leaves.
Charlotte can make the most mundane things into something, we said.
We asked her for lessons, but her natural talent could not be taught.
Arthur's seat sits hidden by the cloak of night, his head up in the clouds.
Princes Street lies empty, no royals, no life, no crowds.
Nelson stands neglected, having made a monumental mistake.
Charlottes' going square without new books to articulate.
St Giles has closed his doors to weary pilgrim seeking refuge.
The Palace has lost its money, its reputation, its gold.
Up at the castle, the one o clock gun,
sounds to mourn Edinburgh's loss.
For all I hear, tonight and every night,
is the pitter patter of the rain.
It marks the tears of old Edinburgh town wondering,
will I be loved again?
Where be the Scottish man in kilt with bagpipe sash?
Or corner street drunken birthday bash?
Edinburgh weaps the soil untrodden,
those lost of late shan't be forgotten.
May we once more run wild with glee,
old Edinburgh town, the land of the free.
5.15.21
From the remnants of past memories drowning tears and questions tossed into a midnight sky. Still tangled inside of Charlottes web wanting to say the way that I feel but attention is paid only to the deaf, dumb, and blind. Closed confines or a fruitful oasis. Learning to become a Dean of moods, tempers, and all of my patience. Even though my shell is flawed. Feelings are put on pause as experiences become molding hands seeing myself replaying scenes that I already record. Put it all into a bowl mix it all around and you may find yourself indulging in the flavors of life. Something simple and sweet can easily be turned sour while what’s wrong today can also be converted into tomorrow’s right.
Oh to feel the heartbeat
Of a new born baby child
Nestled there against your chest
While her mother smiled
Oh there’s nothing sweeter
Than a new love in your life
Brought into this world
By a loving man and wife
Oh there’s nothing better
Than the first time that I saw
My precious little grandchild
For I’m a new grandpa
I still feel her heart a beating
From the very first time meeting
Mdailey 6/11/11
For: Francine Roberts contest – Sonnets, Sonnets Everywhere
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