What Matters…

What we hold in the palm of our hands,

delicate gift, the heart understands.

What we possess but forget

in the wake of regret

withers in shadow

of doubt.

 

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Fragrant remains of desire,

kindling for funeral pyre,

The bits that you clutch,

have so numbed your touch,

while faint memory lingers

I slip through your fingers

as dust in the wind

and no way to mend

the bridge that once

called you a friend.

Forgotten.

 

CKP copyright words and Photo

2018

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Hearts/Photography

Love,

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Mother Nature….

 

She speaks from my soul

with brilliant simplicity,

expressing what words cannot

and lay paralyzed within,

collecting dust as they fade to

painful antiquity, lost among

the debris of possibilty.

 

Hanging Around/Photography

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The empty air between us seems

so thick, so distant, as in dreams.

Memory fades to hazy view,

framed in melancholy hue.

Razor’s edge once cut so deep

now

rusts in pools of tears I weep.

I wept-no more-the well is dry,

the burden gone, with wings I fly,

no more bemoan what might have been,

how sadder now the days than then-

still…

above the noise sometimes is found

the thought of you hanging around,

the buzz,

the glint,

the sting,

the scent,

more bitter than sweet.

 

CherylKp 2018

 

This fellow and another were determined to be noticed this weekend. So I stood there with my camera taking dozens of shots in manual mode just to capture the essence in one or two images. I was determined too!

 

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