User Rating:

Poor Best

I wrote your name on a sidewalk with the wax of a candle, its potential lit, gave me insight.  I had decided you were from my youth, a goddess from Greek Mythology knowing lords from the middle ages, drawing gothic angel art. I lived in another time. I felt mesmerized by your stairway, that led to open ideas. 

User Rating:

Poor Best

Eating right and playing hard, cut out fat and mow the yard. Watch TV? No longer me, out of the house, blubber free.

User Rating:

Poor Best

I spied those angelic beings, whimsical angel drawings within a flower formed from music.  I wanted to capture them, embrace their souls, make them mine.  So I slipped into their light, late at night, when I hoped they would be sleeping.

User Rating:

Poor Best

It is not forever...love, no not always.  Sometimes we step over graves, pass weeping sparrows, miss out on their feathers, replaced.  One sparrow, so many feathers, I should have kept better track.  Moonlight did become you, I wish I had said it, I always melted as it highlighted your words.  Softer than mine, that is what I miss, the softest voice in the loudest sorrow.  Again, might know a gentler repose.  I wish I could hear it...again.