SweetSong18 Poetry (5)

Barely three with a gentle heart,
always wants to play her part,
an apple fallen from the tree,
always awaits what life can be.

Seven now and real tears come,
life is still simple in the home,
but away the evil babes do wait,
hoping she will take their bate.

Eleven and the eye sees clear,
no more days of silly fear,
the babes still flock but only by day,
to her parents she cant come to say.

Now fifteen and all hell falls,
she ignores the taunting boys who call,
sitting quiet unlike the rest,
holding her pain in her breast.

Sixteen and oh what can be done,
She doesn't know now where to run,
Sitting waiting to be found,
They approach without a sound.

Seventeen, and all is quiet,
There is no mention, no riot.
The babes are leaving, going far away.
She cant find words now left to say.

Eighteen, the year now of present,
Something has come, something pleasant.
She is still quiet but her eyes are open,
No more words need be spoken.

She is a girl, like any other.
Nothing special other than she came from her mother.
But still she finds care in a man,
And if her mind opens, then surely she can.

Something so sweet is in his word,
with gentle phrase she is fully assured,
he holds her hope with gentle hands,
If only, they were not separated by lands.

But still she smiles, she knows all is well,
because no longer is she living in hell,
no now she has known something new,
Something she knows, only experienced by few.

Watchful always Azure pools,
light falls upon the dark,
crying loud as if fools,
hearts shown are stark,

Feathered beats help to run,
but beware the cardinals red,
the feathers fall too close to sun,
the crying babes are fed.

Don't be eaten by the babes,
wait not for their chance,
sing them song that never fades,
don't give one more glance.

Hold your beat and join with another,
birds will always be a feather,
be of Azure pools together,
drown in each other forever.

Red, red feather, warns the heart,
but beware the mischievous white,
take your chance and never part,
Show them all your flight.

The hand will fall upon his head,
moving him right to left,
his voice will fall to deaf ears,
His emotions slowly are dead.

Singing his lullaby will lull his wall,
climb the bobbed wire peak,
he still will call but not to you,
though he will not let your mind fall.

Let him feel your pulsing heart,
bring his emotions whilst they degrade,
watch him as he spreads his wings,
Even to just be a part.

Each feather a thought,
though many turn from white,
he cries for those that are black,
Destroy the pain that his emotion has brought.

Love him tenderly though as a friend,
now until he says a word changed,
remember each thought a feather for you too,
in time his emotion will mend.

I saw him walking on the wall,
The brick was chipped with age.
As he walked I thought he’d fall,
But no it was his stage.

He so did spin as light as air,
His eyes were the stars.
His hair I thought a lovers pair,
My sight caught slowing cars.

He then so bent lithe then still,
His hand held out for mine.
I took it and so the air did chill,
He found my heart so fine.

Each foot on edge a sweeter note,
My bag lay far behind.
I found the chill did not dote,
But was gone id be soon to find.

And so we danced our thoughts did reel,
The silence was our applause.
Soon the bell would ring on till,
We would find our hearts did pause.

Not a beat to give a word,
There’s only quiet as we fall down.
A crack our final word so slurred,
We as lovers lay on the ground.

But no worse fate shall come to us,
We have found our hearts content.
And so we lay among the muss,
We puppets our souls did once rent.

I see you sitting by the shore,
Your lullaby rings in my ears.
I knew our love was ever more,
But still you saw my tears.

You coddled me with plea and silk,
I sang our song in turn.
I found you to be a strange ilk,
I took my chance to learn.

We walked along until sea’s end,
And turned on tip and toe.
We smile once and then we bend,
My memories faint are so.

So sweet our love we hope to keep,
Like bird sweet to ear and sight.
We thought our love would surely reap,
Like a lovers special rite.

We walk around in circle clear,
The elements bless our accord,
Sweet to smell the sage does sear,
Any consequence we find we afford.

Our song is soon bound to soul,
Your lullaby is our duet,
As years go on our times will toll,
Just like Russian roulette,

Year seventy is the first shot,
That bug held my heart,
Seventy-five is the slot,
Where I read your surgery chart.

But soon we hear those faithful bells,
Of course right before the bang,
We will hear the cleric tell,
But I only heard what you sang.