Poetry listed below.  Hope you enjoy reading them, I certainly did writing them. 

****************************************************************** 

Innocent lamentations

I watch them lower their boxes,

the children, with a tender caress,

one too old for the young.

They say they made them in school,

the teacher says that in years someone will find them,

and the cheese and bread included.

Of course by then the sentiment will fade,

along with the words adorned by those letters included.

Do you remember when we added ours?

I can't remember where we buried them,

Sometimes I dream that long forgotten boxes,

will be found by my children, or theirs.

But I will remember where I bury this one,

My epitaph to you is my memory.

 (This is my favorite that I've written)

_
_

The Dark Oasis

The Dark Oasis of shimmering bliss, that guides my spirit through life's lonely mist.

It helps me reflect on the things I've done, when I look upon, the bliss of the Dark Oasis. 

_

_ 

A solitary mind 

This glass is empty and

yet I thirst more for it,

Not because it’s there for me to want

but because it’s purpose is unfulfilled.

If it where to gain substance

I would want it less and so,

This glass is empty,

And yet I thirst more for it

_

_ 

Winter Tidings

The warming yellow and autumn shall,

The fallen chestnut that once stood tall,

Naked as birth and jagged of form,

Weeps tears of leaves for a summer forlorn.

*

An armor of chunky bark,

Scars of the fallen log coated in dark,

Frozen to a carpet of wasted tears,

Inside churns safely scurrying ears.

*

A photographed motion, of a once babbling creek,

A wonderland of reeds, now frozen and weak,

Keeps life on a cliffhanger, masked in white,

A Christmas vision, to bear eyes is a sight.

 _

_

Eye of the Storm 

A clap of thunder, guts twist and writhe, Two in the kitchen, each shouting their side.

Will it boil over? Spill screams and pour? I search for a haven.

But without one I am, so i sit coiled and ready, before the storm there'll be calm.

It starts with a bang, a name or dig; for my solitude now I haven't a fig...

I've done it again.

I swore that I wouldn't, I watch one interact where another failed or couldn't.

After it's over they return to their own, forgotten to them, where one me it's soaked to the bone...

On paper it must go.

Just another fight, this is why it's an obsession; this is why I have to write.

I must make it safe somewhere, the path is each time paven. Tell me!

where is the heart,

...When the home is no haven.

 _

_

I hope everyone liked the poetry.