Sweet Captivity

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Somewhere~

in the silent breath twixt unconcious bliss

and first morning light’s dewy kiss

my soul stands still,

my mind’s free will

unfettered by the constraints

of cruel convention,

what strange dimension

of perfect comprehension,

the bliss of awakening.

Gone the phantasm of night,

its war of demons driven back

by crystal shards of daylight~

my heart softly weeps

for the memory sleeps

on within its cell,

magic’s darkest spell

lingering,

fingering

the rusty keys,

tormenting,

unrelenting.

The choice  my own,

the seeds were sown

so long ago.

How could I know 

such sweet  fruit

would wither, rotten

in the garden of the forgotten,

where silence is not golden

but deafeningly black and blue~

It waits there for you.

 

Cheryl KP copyright words and images 2019

This post brought to you by blogger Linda Hill

Check out her blog for other great posts and prompts!

And if you’re in the mood for more foggy tales, visit Dan at the bar today

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Abandoned #ThursdayDoors

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I fear my countenance now has changed,

the wear and tear of life has stained

my skin-

within

the cracks grow long,

what once so strong

now wounded, bleeding

as my soul pleading

begs for release from

time’s relentless march,

the Minutemen beat at the door,

I ask for just a moment more-

or two

with you.

Where were we when

began the end?

Why did we sneer

and jeer,

the thought that all might end

and no longer could pretend

still called this life so real..

I feel,

I feel…

abandoned.

Future is but a memory

and past has long forgotten me.

But this sweet moment

here and now

etched on creased

and weary brow

will for eternity be pressed

in memory’s book of

happiness.

CKP Copyright words and photos 2019

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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