Sympathy
By
Patricia Harris
lost in the notes
of overwhelming sympathy,
the pages flooding over me,
I am struck by the reality
of the dreams we leave behind.
Perhaps the story we hide
is to protect both me and you,
from the truth
we rush to headlessly.
Samhain
By
Patricia Harris
Rolling pumpkins
glowing eyes,
decaying leaves,
admist costumery…
candy sacks in tiny hands
haunting the streets
until the nights end.
The veil is thinned
on this night of revelry,
It brings the ancestors
to weave the joy into
all that might be .
My Wings
By
Patricia Harris
my wings were clipped
before I had grown
strong enough to fly…
so I crashed as they said I would
crawling upon the ground
trying to reach home once more …
I had to recreate my wings
from the bones of the soul
they burned within.
I turned the page
By
Patricia Harris
As I expected the world
To be a story worth reading,
When I found that I was
Not enjoying the day…
I turned the page.
The story is going to be
One that I chose to write,
And if I am ready to with
nothing to stop me,
I turned the page.
Trading with the fae
By
Patricia Harris
They told me
They could take my pain
And steal it away.
Trading with the fae
Is worse than
Dealing with the devil
Any day.
The promises made
Are sweeter than sugar,
And the result is naught
But disappointment.
Song of Home
By
Patricia Harris
The song of home
Is leading me
To the path
Of memory.
The notes lifting
My heart broken
Into a place of peace
Where only happiness exists.
Blindfold
By
Serena Mossgraves
I have found it too easy
To don the darkness
Of the intentional
Blindfold.
If I can not see
Then it will not
Hurt me,
If I am but
Blind,
Then you are
But a figment
Of my mind.
Forgotten Flowers
By
Patricia Harris
Faded blooms
Floating down stream
Forget me nots
Don’t mean anything.
When you promised forever
With flowers in your hand,
I believed you with no demand…
But here I sit with forgotten flowers
And forever but a dream.
You Saved Me
By
Patricia Harris
You say that you feel
like you were a curse…
before you I was a soul
lost in the void.
I had no idea
what I should do
or who I was…
I had never seen
anyone else
remotely like me.
until you.
you saved me,
by introducing me
to who you are.
Sirens lullaby
By
Serena Mossgraves
Blood in the street,
youth for the reaper to greet.
regrets pour from the end
of the gun like just another rainstorm .
Perhaps the community is so used
to playing the game,
oh well that's just fireworks again...
and the reaper's approach
will go unnoticed.
Or the sirens will be the lullaby
the infants remember
because of how oft they have
heard them .
Pattimouse 