A Letter To My Love
This poem was inspired by the instrumental piece by Enya called Watermark. I have included a YouTube (not mine) link so you can listen to the music as well.
October Rain
Cold droplets slap the red leaves of autumn
Like cleansing tears from a healing soul.
They are neither vibrant nor filled with hope.
Nobody sings or dances joyfully with them.
They just fall.
Without anyone to cherish them,
Without anyone who cares to notice,
They are forgotten.
Lost opportunities,
Fading memories,
Desperately clinging onto a hope
They can no longer even recognize.
I see you.
I smell the dampness you bring.
I sense your quiet emptiness.
Drench me in your mourning.
I do not care if the sun ever shines,
As long as we have each other.
Dream: A Dream about Dreaming
I am sitting in an old county courtroom. The walls are a lightly stained oak with paintings of judges from the past lined up to oversee the present. Above are low ceiling fans lazily stirring the unbearably oppressive heat. There are large open windows on three sides of the room letting the bright sunlight (along with an assortment of annoying flying insects) flood in.
Dream: The Cemetery of Excrement
I find myself walking through the streets of a small town. The place seems familiar to me in a vague way. It is summer time, the trees are full and green. The air is very still yet cool and comfortable, and although I see houses and parked cars, there is no movement, no people, no dogs barking in the distance, not even the chirping of birds.
Phillip’s Best Friend
Phillip was an only child. He kept to himself mostly, seldom being included in the activities of the other eight year olds. He didn’t mind really. He had one very special friend.
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