ESCAPE

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TIME HAS LEFT BEHIND

 

 

Let’s walk the halls once more.

Give new life to the building.

Time to open the blinds.

Clean out the cobwebs.

Footsteps will ring on the stairs.

Echoes will sail through the rooms.

Laughter will light up the rooms

That time has left behind.

A QUIET SPOT

In a quiet spot.
On a soft chair.
In the sun’s spotlight.
I will read a book.
Eyes wide open.
Mind set to explore.
Sunlight streaming in.
I will read a book.
Hands trembling.
Tears falling.
Sun warming my body.
I will read a book.

 

 

 

In a quiet spot.

On a soft chair.

In the sun’s spotlight.

I will read a book.

Eyes wide open.

My mind set to explore.

Sunlight streaming in.

I will read a book.

Hands trembling.

Tears falling.

Sun warming my body.

I will read a book.

 

 

A COLD HELL

 

 

Blackness beckons.

Fingers grab for me.

Teeth rip at me.

Fish beside me.

Laughter rains down.

The Dead  below.

A cold hell for me.

I am lost.

THE DEAD GAME

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THE SEARCH

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THE SEARCH

In the quiet summer night,

Light shining from a great height,

A search until morning light.

We hold strong with all our might

That we find what we’re searching for,

Before night ends and shuts the door.

We need to find her before it’s too late.

We refuse to leave this up to mere fate.

A shout, a cry is heard in the dark.

It must be her alone in the park.

The light shines on her pretty face.

She sees us and picks up her pace.

She is crying and laughing at the same time.

A perfect ending to this story of mine.

CRYSTAL CHANDELIER

CRYSTAL CHANDELIER

Crystal chandelier of mine.
I love your sparkle and shine.
You bring back memories long gone
when life hadn’t been so far gone.
Remember the parties we used to host?
Fancy guests arriving from coast to coast.
Music and laughter were the rules of the day.
But now all that are left are the bills to pay.

HOT BALL OF YELLOW

A hot ball of yellow

sets over a palette

of grey and blue.

Cries of laughter float

through a park of green

dotted with bushes of red.

Rainbow-colored homes

behind white picket fences

hold hands in the waning light.

A perfect place.

For daydreaming.

For wishes.

For The Dead.

THE DEAD GAME

AFTER THE RAIN

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After The Rain

The streets will be sparkling clean.

The sun will shine.

Kids play ball.

Bicycles ride by.

Couples walk hand in hand.

The air sweet with laughter from

the diners at the sidewalk cafe.

A dog sleeps in the shadows.

A new day.

Sparkling clean.

THE INN

 

I hear voices from inside.

Laughter and cheering.

Clinking of glasses.

Sailing forth on

the silence of the night.

I hasten my steps.

I open the heavy door

and peer inside.

An empty room faces me.

No one in sight.

I step inside.

I can hear the voices.

The laughter.

I squint through the darkness.

A light shines on the tables,

where figures are drinking.

Transparent forms of people,

who once inhabited this inn.

They will laugh and be merry

until the end of time.

I raise my glass to them.

MEMORIES

“Rome. Palazzo Spada. Colonnade, 1632, by Francesco Borromini.” Baroque architecture and sculpture in Italy. 1912,

 

 

Walk through the pillars

and into another century.

Feel the vibrations

of footsteps in the past.

Hear the laughter

of Roman guests.

Touch the statues

reaching for the sky.

Smell the sweetness

of memories long gone by.

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