The Screen Door Slams

Today, in the trash. Very Sad.

Drapes covered with Dust

In every heart there is a room
A sanctuary safe and strong

To heal the wounds from lovers past

Until a new one comes along

I spoke to you in cautious tones

You answered me with no pretense

And still I feel I said too much

My silence is my self defense

And this is why my eyes are closed...

Summer Madness

Honestly, does it have to come down to this? Strolling the wrong way. Looking north and going south? All I want is direction, clarity, strength. Where is the fastener, and why is it avoided? Who gets permission? And why is it provided? Who am I to say?

I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach.
I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each.
I do not think that they will sing to me.

I have seen them riding seaward on the waves
Combing the white hair of the waves blown back
When the wind blows the water white and black.

We have lingered in the chambers of the sea

By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown
Till human voices wake us, and we drown.

Roses On My Desk

I was given a small potted plant, 2 inch parade roses. They are red, or were, now they are kinda dark red. They are tiny, the label says "hearty" as well. Beautiful when they arrived. So sweet. But then, the "self watering wick" failed. And it was up to me to keep these roses alive. I did it with little help for about 4 weeks. It seemed we were in sync. I helped them, they made me smile, I helped them to grow, then something happened. I'm not really sure what. They dried, I watered them, they burned from my light, I moved them....too late. It's all dying now. I have to determine if I want dried flowers around or just throw them out. I stare at them and wonder if they are in any pain. Did they know this would happen? Now both of us are angry. Our joys no longer fulfill each other. I even watered them again this morning hoping some life would appear. Nothing.

I hate when plants die. I am not one to throw them out. I've never been really attached to roses, this one was different. Soft, sweet and came along at the right time. I don't like dried flowers at all. They are just dead flowers. Reminding us of what comes.

They however, are still on my desk.