Deep in the Winter of my waning youth My heart was frozen in time...     (Mgonzalez01)

Pain grasped with icey fingers and held me captive turning my sunshine smile to stone...   (RobinMin)

and dashing the mirror promise of inheritance of my mother's and my mother's mother's face upon that unfeeling rocky place the cold hope lost recast my countenance.   (AngelPie_Mouse)

And Assessing Time's handiwork with care My eyes have been deceived all these years For my soul until this moment did not register These deep lines and markings and so I fear.   (Mgonzalez01)

Who am I in this making? Who am I in this unmaking? Who am I in this taking? Who am I in this untaking? What will I become? and what leave behind? What whispers do I hear down the long corridor of mothers? Were there answers to questions, the universe would be known in full; but there are no answers only a forward pull to a mirror ripe with suggestions.   (AngelPie_Mouse)

Perplexity gazes back adjacent to this sudden clue. Standing and pondering as my waning youth passes before me..I moved from the mirror with its poignant views, and lived life.   (Robinmin)

Down the long grey sky of season's daybreak A hand streaks clouds to riot, merging   (AngelPie_Mouse)

The moon rises and casts its reflection upon the gentle lake As dusk is approaching....   (mgonzalez01)

O' such a wondrous sight it is, a moment when life is beginning, breaking to be free and wild, touched, and pushed from above, yet, another brilliance giving truth...   (EnchantedWords)

Not merely God in the clockwork of the universe, but God in the single blade of grass, God in the bud of a tree leafing, God in the earth.    (AngelPie_Mouse)

The whole Universe reeks of the Creator's pressence The air is His breath... The rain, His gentle tears that pours upon us We, ungrateful children, do not appreciate much That God in his infinate mercy and love Has given us a wonderous inheritance!   (Mgonzalez01)

Though we still aspire for His love, a touch within dream, meaning for our life, a truth, and standing upon this cliff, looking out to sea, tells of no more than how it is.   (Enchanted Words)

     

He was just a tiny lad Only turned thirteen this day He reeked of aftershave like his dad He looked up to him in everyway Putting on his Kalvin kline jeans He stuck the 9mm Walther PPK in his pocket planning to shoot someone to smithereens....      (Mary Gonzalez)

One last look into mirror, a reflection was born, "The Kid" stands tall, lanky, and the gun hanging there, screaming to come alive.

Three jumps down the stairs, quickly looking from room to room, before exiting the front door, a last look he knowing to become seen, only in a dream.

One thought came to mind, as passing the cars, people, and homes, why?      (EnchantedWords)

Why? a realized excuse for intimacy, briefly experienced and set aside, forgotten. He was as relevent an outcome as their feelings for each other, Squandered years ago and never renewed. He was tangible only in the sense of liability-- So much for designer label jeans, So much for atheletic shoes, books on the stairs, a bicycle in the front yard, a penciled note for a dentist appointment held fast on the refrigerator door with plastic daisy covered magnet. In all else he was invisible. Had he had more wit about him, he would have worn it like a cloak of invulnerability. Nothing would have touched him as he touched nothing, had never touched anything, had never learned how to touch.

The gun would change all that. He was learning how to touch now.      (AngelPie_Mouse)

The kid felt the cold steel Against his skin Knowing, just knowing what a bullet must feel Penetrating an enemy's skin and sinew; what a sin! But what a rush of adrenalin! And this gave the Kid more power too It awakened in him a desire for blood and violence That it scared him at the same time and he was mesmorized and left without a clue As to this renewed sense of prowess that took over his entire self...      (Mgonzalez01)

Voices, those voices keep coming, saying this is wrong, there is that thought again, telling me it can be done so easily, devouring all of what conscience I have, "The Kid" will be thy self given a mortality, sensing there need a turn ahead, the corner as passing, gives a look down the street to the big double doors, a grand entrance to the church, and he keeps on walking... (Enchanted Words)

Mr. C set down his newspaper at the breakfast table looking up at the slip of slate sky through the kitchen window he shook his head lips pressed in a thin line and forehead bunched in a momentary expression of concern "Conspiracy Suspected at Columbine" Who bought the guns? Who put them into the hands of the children? He turned from the black letter headline to the business section and shrugged.

And in the street outside, The Kid turned the corner, Elm Avenue to Main Boulevard. 7:46 a.m.      (AngelPie_Mouse)

[end]

These be words, beliefs Why I say "I ain't got none right now" Improper! The reason I praise Jesus at most Atheist conventions      (NALewis)

Don't let fear paralyze Your vocal chords, my freind It is our God given rights, you must realize And this the Constitution does deffend Freedom to speek what's on your mind Freedom, beautiful freedom to blurt out what you feel... To render your opinion and leaving fear behind...      (Mary Gonzalez)

The timid will answer "but we must be politically correct. We must avoid any chance to offend." Or, is that reserved for only "them?" A new form of prejudice Or, perhaps, an old in new clothes. It is difficult to tell in silence --who and why and how condemn.      (AngelPie_Mouse)

Let us with One voice spread the word

Like wildfire, and in unison, let us voice together And for once as a whole be heard! And spread our message with One Voice... This is our Constitutional Rights! It will always be forever! With confidence, we do have a choice... We can open our mouths together and express our opinions Whatever they may be.... Be respected for what we say... And still retain our dignity... This is the American Way!!!!      (Mary Gonzalez)

[End]

Summertime!!! The heat is on!! Blue skies above, With a raging, orange sun And the pulsating heat of a summer love!!! Barbacues flaring The smell of smoldering coals The aroma of hot dogs in the park As children play ball And the dogs bark...      (mgonzalez01)

I would reach for you. A smothering blanket weighs down the arms presses the body drapes the head and shoulders lies scoldingly on bare knees. Too hot, the sun where no breeze comes to lend relief and no shade is born. But in its ardent blister all things whither.      (AngelPie_Mouse)

From somewhere in mind, the thought carries unto past, when time was not meant to be, when summer was fun through the eyes of a child. Whence the moment of heat, this day brings, and shall be forgiven into night's calm and soothing comfort of coolness, time again will not be of importance, The child that lie in sleep, is all that matters.      (crowstouch)

Summertime, Oh, sweet, sweet Summertime! You come forth with a lifeforce of your own! A burning, incandescent radiance that at this time.. The season, short as it may be and short outgrown.. Pulsates with the fire of your soul And covers us with rays of sunshine Which engulfs us all...      (mgonzalez01)

[End]

August morning, 7 a.m. in the city... Odors of hot tar and asphalt mingle with car exhaust, steamy coffee smells from nearby cafes, and greasy donuts from carts on the avenue. Horse patrols ride by the intersection. The cobbled alleys give up the stench of winos cleared out before dawn. Glass and steel glistening, too hot to sweat. Phones ring unanswered in offices not yet open and the passage of pedestrians leaves footprints in the street.      (AngelPie_Mouse)

The heart of a city never dies, for it lives even as we sleep. Never stopping time for one person and forever swallowing another into its night. This is the tragedy before the rushing, crushing, and pushing of cattle when the bell rings. Is this all we have to offer?      (Isitis)

Is it the city which has life indeed, or is it the cumulative personality of men and women and machines blending into a single personae sightless, mindless. A Greek chorus of faces and voices watching the blinding of Oedipus unfold, nodding. There is nothing so pleasant as the fall of kings to assure us of our superiority.      (AngelPie_Mouse)

The city never sleeps, indeed! But men and women ponder In their aching need To slow down the pace of urban living, they often wonder... How our ancestors managed under the hot August skies... Sitting on their porches, rocking slowly Whilst inhaling the sweet smell of apple pies Cooling in the breeze. Sipping lemonade As grandmother knitted in perfect ease... Did they suffer from stress As we city people do? Did they suffer high blood pressure, I must try to guess; How did they ever handle the heat and humidity that dried the summer morning's dew...      (mgonzalez01)

The heat... How do we fight something that is so out of our control? Something we craved, something we need, And yet something so amazing that it can give life and take it away . How can we acquire the wisdom that slip so easily from our hands that our ancestors hold so dear? We are only human as a lily is only a plant. We can only do what our minds restrict us to. So let go of the rush, the pain, and the worry. See the sky, the clouds, and the flowers. Drink the sun-kissed golden medicine down to the tunnel of your soul. Let the wind tickle your ears and the birds sing you a lullaby. Let nature to you its story. Let the magic of the season ignite all your senses. Don't let the spirit of August fade away.      (Isitis)

[End]

The first leaves fall from the oaks in the lane Autumn is happening again ...     (OldCusser)

Russet and gold, the color of blood the maple tree, the alder, the elm join the flood A cascade of color bright in their hue Falling to earth, the harvest is due.      (AngelPie_Mouse)

The mingling colors old friends which meet After days and months of hiding complete Behind green cloaks, now the maples come out In their finest array and the wind blows about Their beautiful clothes in earnest display And sends to the ground their majestic array.      (poetry_gal)

And in the woods a lady dressed in a golden gown Holds out her arms extended in a sweet embrace With curls of amber and a golden crown To welcome the new babe, Autumn and kiss her face!      (mgonzalez01)

As the leaves fall, the smell of autumn fastly approaches us. The squirrels are collecting their supplies to prepare for what's ahead. The lands seem to go into relax mode, to settle in for the long haul. Soon the gray sky's will take over, and the silky blanket of white will take over the land.      (rick)

And thus, the cycle is complete. Like a silver ring with no beginning and no ending.. Life does spin In an orbit of change. Nothing remains the same forever But all creatures must embrace The metamorphosis of nature...      (mgonzalez01)

Change and change again. The whirl and swirl of bright ornaments A day clock mechanism, spiraling to dazzle the senses. We watch in rapt fascination-- Not wholly within, not wholly without-- A paradox between yet still beneath the glass dome of wonder.      (AngelPie_Mouse)

[End]

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