I Cry For You

Walking out knee deep
Fluid reflections glimmer
Walking out shifting sandbar 
Low tide is a slow rise 
The moon sits stoically
On a fine line drawn 
Across the horizon 
And I can only imagine 
What is beyond the curve 
Of this narcissistic planet - Earth 
Or the destination of shooting stars
First hand knowledge burn out
Slips beneath my own personal radar
The way love vanishes mysteriously
Into the stillness of a dark night
Or shutters as the light of day
Seeps into creases of awareness
Sudden winds blow like a cold slap
Chilling the hearts of lonely lovers
A harsh realization...bitter sweet
The dance leaves me senseless
Leaves me empty 
...I cry for you
East coast rainy Saturday 
Music playing in the background 
Lyrics that hit home 
Lyrics I should have written 
Back when life wasn't so convoluted
Flipping from page to page 
Familiar visions old photos 
Memories open the flood gates 
To those no longer here 
Outside of this sphere 
Loved ones that touched my heart...changed my life 
Loved ones and friends interchangeable affections 
East coast rainy Saturday
Leaves me empty 
...I cry for you

© 2014 TrilbyYates

The Day After St. Paddy's Day

Flawed Tapestry

Silence wraps around me
a blanket of blushed tones
silky white to touch
tints of gray
speckled from edge to edge
never knowing
if I am coming or going
questioning - have I been here all along
and there is a sense of harshness
in the thoughts that wash over me
my faith is an absence of color
as sepia images of Mary and the baby boy
fade away - drifting with a tide of innocence
that now alludes me to the core
I have grown weary
suspect of my surroundings
laughter comes at a price
and there is a dagger to my heart
as a finger to lips - hush sweet sounds of joy
silver in the lining of flat clouds
float by - carried on a sea breeze
traces of what I once knew to be true
this I know no more
and yes mourning doves coo
reminiscent of gentler times
penetrate the cloak that once protected
now smother daydreams of you and me
stray beams of sunlight
pierce a flawed tapestry
I’ve come to call my life

© 2012 Trilby