Her hand, held firmly to the fading rose.
Quietly in the privacy of her place of light perfume,
She felt the rain drop from her fingers
To the petal of the crimson bloom:
Death's stolen hours had brashly fooled her.
In so still a night, she had secretly gone.
Her soul did only what it knew, hanged onto life
until the rose simply fell and the lucent tear vanished into the dawn.
Annabelle
Go to Sleep, Darlings... “I wonder if the snow loves the trees and fields It covers them snug, you know, with a white quilt; and perhaps it says, Go to Sleep, Darlings, till the summer comes again.” Lewis Carroll
Friday, August 24, 2007
Death's Stolen Hours
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MIDNIGHT MARGARITAS
A place for keeping my art in larger formats
*** Sir Arthur Conan Doyle ***
“Where there is no imagination there is no horror”. Arthur Conan Doyle, Sr.
*** Sir Christopher Lee ***
“There are many vampires in the world today - you only have to think of the film business”
* ~ Spirit of the Night ~
Soon it will be Hallows Eve...Time to create Art from the Dark Side ***Annabelle
~ Turn of the Screw ~
A Flickr mosaic I made some time ago ~ Annabelle
WE WERE SOLDIERS
~ Annabelle
9 comments:
Annabelle,
The photo and the words are so emotional. I hope all is well with you. Beautiful poetry as usual.
xo
Blue
Beautiful, heartbreaking poetry.
Sending you love
haven't chatted in a long while~~~how are you feeling...you're still writing such beautiful lines!
Blessings!
I hope all is well.
Love Jeanne ^j^
Hi Girls, thanks for the heart felt thoughts. I’ve had not too good of a spring and summer this year and I even spent a week in Oakville while my hubby was working at Sheridan Park and thought of calling Blue up along with Sheila and Heather but when ones down and in deep depression one’s friend is solitude where there is no need to put up a front. If I am going to meet with friends I would like to meet them as I normally am…happy.Maybe that will be sometime soon;I hope! Looking forward to blogging and doing some in door work this coming fall and maybe even visiting with you guys....It's been soooo very long!!!!I have spent a lot of quite time this past season and some constructive work and chitter chatter I would happily welcome!!
Rather go back to the forget me nots than death...let's chat
xoxo
Sending hugs.
When you feel up to it, we'll meet. I have no doubt.
xo
Blue
thinking of you my sweet friend~
i miss your writings~
hope all is beautiful in your world!
xo ~Bella
Old Treasure Hunt Fool
(I dedicate this poem to my wife who, in the fall of 2007, took an Ottawa Radio Station Treasure Hunt just a little too far)
There once was this Italian mother
Who neglected her significant other
She ignored everyone, was no longer fun
Looked only for treasure to uncover
Story goes this was a girl with a dream
To be hunter of treasure supreme
They took her away, there she stays to this day
And keeps saying, “things aren't as they seem”
As time passed she was feeling much better
But her family still wouldn’t come get her
They wrote don’t despair, your better off there
Sent on in an extremely short letter
Time passed by, she turned old and went grey
She wished she could go back to that day
Swears things would differ, the hunt would be stiffer
And the treasure would be hers for the prey
Her family has started over their life
No need for a deadbeat mom and / or wife
Her headstone when chose, the words they’ll compose
They agree to install without strife
Here lies the soul of a women gone crazy
Dirty house and a little bit lazy
The treasure it seems, was just part of her dreams
As her whole life slipped away and turned hazy
If you’re looking for gold, treasure or jewel
For it appears that this would be the rule
The moral would seem, to stay part of the team
And don’t turn into an Old Treasure Hunt Fool
Stan
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