Made of These

The tears fall,

Unstoppable as

rain on autumn hay,

so I let them,

let them sink

as they sing-

paw prints in the snow

against my pillow.


He sleeps so quietly

beside me

so I let him,

let him hide in worlds away,

ones hidden in the day,

so he can hide in golden shrouds

of fairies’ dust on candy clouds.


The tears fall,


November snow on

sweeter August dreams-

but beside me still he’s

lost in dreamland,

where I’ll let him stay,

to dream of pixies in the waves

of wanderlust and summer haze.


◄ Split Pea Soup

Crytallized Ginger and Eskimo Kisses ►


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Tia Lattanzio

Mon 13th Nov 2017 18:46

I never mind your comments! Writing, or at least mine, is meant to be read deeply and torn apart!
Your comments are always appreciated!
Thank you,

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Cynthia Buell Thomas

Mon 13th Nov 2017 14:50

I much admire the soft and the hard, the tender versus the potentially destructive, support instead of aggression. IMO, it does indicate a strong penchant to decide what 'truths' you want to embrace to ensure personal happiness.

If my comments are ever too intrusive, please just say so. Perhaps I can be too bold.

But, then, why do we write!

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Martin Elder

Thu 9th Nov 2017 23:17

Me thinks this is something of a lament for something lost. I like the line paw prints in the snow.

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keith jeffries

Thu 9th Nov 2017 22:23

Each word of this poem is like a tear drop. Well done and thanks. Keith

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Hannah Collins

Thu 9th Nov 2017 20:01

Beautiful poem.


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