Here comes the moon again

Here comes the moon again,
Pale and lonely like he always is.
I'm not scared of the dark,
Just the uncertainty it brings

Here comes the sun again,
shooting pinks out of the ground.
And this forgotten reconciliation is looming
in the background of another fading night.

Here comes the springtime again,
But the green won't appear.
The seasons just keep changing,
And our lives stay the same.

There goes your smile again.
It never stays for long.
I can't hold on to hope
When the wind is bitter cold.

The Teal Walls of This Room.

You counted to 100
while I went and hid.
I waited 2 years, but
you never came to find me.

The mirror in the bathroom is
crooked again, and the tootsie
rolls are gone. WWII is over,
but my heart's still at war.

At night my lamp invites
robot shadows to my wall,
but the whispers in their
eyes keep me awake.

The mirror in the bathroom is
crooked again, and the tootsie
rolls are gone. WWII is over,
but my heart's still at war.

I climbed the tree we planted
when we were younger.
It's taller now, but I still
can't fly away from here.

The mirror in the bathroom is
crooked again, and the tootsie
rolls are gone. WWII is over,
but my heart's still at war.

I held my breath for as long
as I could, but still had
to inhale long before you.

Keep Moving Forward.

Your life is everything they wanted.
All the peices fell perfectly into place,
but you still wonder if you've missed
out on living.

But we just keep moving forward.
This is no time to look back.
Just keep moving forward.
Maybe someday you'll be whole.

He doesn't know what he wants.
He's sinking in himself.
His life is moving forward into
nothing and he doesn't even care.

But we just keep moving forward.
This is no time to look back.
Just keep moving forward.
Maybe someday you'll be happy.

She loved him and he loved her.
They could see it in the other's eyes.
But then his eyes wouldn't look
anymore as hers filled with tears.

But we just keep moving forward.
This is no time to look back.
Just keep moving forward.
Maybe someday you'll be complete.

They say it will be better.
They say everything's okay.
They say it will make you stronger,
but they can't see your heart.

But we just keep moving forward.
This is no time to look back.
Just keep moving forward.
Maybe today you'll be alive.

Things to Fill the Time

So I wrote this as song lyrics, but it's way long and gets kind of redundant so I don't know what it is now. I guess it's almost song lyrics, but basically just a bunch of stanzas of stuff.

I counted 22 mini-wheats
and the days since you left
Later my Alphabet soup told me to
sit on the kitchen floor and write
a story about a lonely man

I fill the top drawer of my dresser with
calendar pages, pink ribbons,
bobby pins, and cherry stems.

I take endless showers and soak in
baths, but I still smell you on my skin
and in my hair. I wrap myself in
a robe the color of raspberry sherbert
to look for buttons for my jar.

I fill the top drawer of my dresser with
pine tree air fresheners, marbles,
dove chocolate wrappers, and kite string.

I opened my box to color a picture,
but all my crayons were your favorite color.
So after taht summer storm I took a
walk and tried not to squish the worms
on the sidewalk.

I fill the top drawer of my dresser with
marker caps, yellow legos,
the number 4, and pens with black ink.

As I sat and counted the ants on the
sidewalk, the cracks they ran across almost
spelled out I love you, so I caught
fireflies in a jar to keep me company,
but they refused to shine.

I fill the top drawer of my dresser with
lonely pennies, socks with holes,
song lyrics, and used paint brushes.

I'm reading Sherlock Holmes stories,
but why you left is still a mystery to me.
The clock says 3:23 in the morning so I make
chocolate pudding and stare at the ceiling.

I fill the top drawer of my dresser with
piano music, matchbox cars,
bookmarks, and black and white photographs.

I'm still searching new puddles for
frogs and my future. I want a fresh
start so I bought a new guitar, but your
memory is still in this song

I filled the top drawer of my dresser with
every memory of you I could find, but
it's so full you overflow into my life again.

Neverland

When we first met
You took my hand and
Whispered follow me
to Neverland

Our Neverland is buit of
everything we need like
Interlocked fingers, fluffy
White clouds, and tinkerbell

Peter Pan taught us to
fly and it wasn't hard
because we were each
other's happy thought

Our Neverland is built of
Everything we need like
Soft embraces, rainy
Afternoons, and pirate ships

We played with the lost boys
And days passed quickly
And not at all at the same time

Our Neverland is built of
Everything we need like
Dancing to no music, perfect
blue skies, and mermaid lagoons

You took me there when
I got sad and I took you
There when you were scared and
Then we were happy

Our Neverland is built of
Everything we need like
Secret laughter, rainbows,
and Indian Cheifs

Time chased Captain Hook,
but could never catch our love
Because we could escape
to Neverland

Our Neverland is built of
Everything we need like
Sunsets and starry nights,
Warm smiles and dreams of forever

I still see it all
in your eyes when you
take my hand and whisper
follow me to Neverland

A Picture of Passion Fruit

The clock says 11:11
I think one wish but say another
And try not to remember
But thoughts push their way past
All the barriers I've built
And memories and tears rain down
As starburst wrappers.

Then Mr. Wagstaff whispers
The rain turns to starburst wrappers
But he won't offer comfort
And just admires a yellow flower

I can't help but recall
How we always soared higher
Than our red kite ever could
As we learned how to
Crochet and love

Then Mr. Wagstaff whispers
Two years have finally passed
But he won't offer comfort
And just smells a yellow flower

Now I keep that broken glass
In a locket by my broken heart
Don't unlock the painted box
Filled with everything less than 3

Then Mr. Wagstaff whispers
Abraham Lincoln's dead
But he won't offer comfort
And just picks a yellow flower

You asked for a little pink bow
I just kissed your arm instead
Now it lays beside dried flowers
From the summers that we shared

Now Mr. Wagstaff whispers
I'll see you later
But he won't offer comfort
And drops the yellow flower.

Two Yellow Flowers

This poem is another one that I wrote because I had to, but I'm glad Brit. Lit. made me write things because I probably wouldn't have thought of this on my own. We had to pick a painting or photograph and then write a poem about it. As you can probably tell by the title I picked a photograph of 2 yellow flowers that someone took and gave to me once.

The picture of the yellow flowers
You took for me so long ago
Reminds me of their quiet peace
While the world rushed on we stood
Still like the beauty of those two flowers
The wind blew hard, but they just held
Each other firm and strong and happy
Their roots were entwined together always
Rain covered not only one, but both
Then smiled in the sun
Their innocent bliss didn't last forever like
Their imaginations dreamed
Instead you plucked one from the ground,
The other's roots still holding on
And scattered in the wind.

The Tired Lonely Man (Part 1)

The tired lonely man pushed the images of the beautiful graceful girl to the back of his mind, but hard as he tried he could never push them completely out. She was always there, dancing around and smiling at him. she seemed as though cut out of some perfectly written story where good always triumphs and true love always prevails, and all he ever long for was to be part of her story.
He tore his gaze away from the beautiful mountain scenery outside his window and settled into a chair at his kitchen table. The dream had come again last night. He had thought on the memory for so long now, he could barely dissern the truth from fantasy. Most days he wondered if it was only a dream. Regardless of the level of truth in it, it still haunted his nights.
The dream had started as all his childhood days had. Young and carefree, he explored the forest, fighting monsters and venturing where no one had before. That day was different though, because that day he heard something in the woods other than the occasional deer snapping a twig or the cheerful chirping of birds; he heard a voice.
Going in the direction of the voice revealed taht it came from a girl so pretty he thought she must be a product of his imagination. She had perfect curly hair the darkest shade of brown he had ever seen and flawless skin that looked as if it had never seen the sun. she was walking along the side of a river and humming softly to herself. She was entrancing, and as he sat watching the most unexpected thing happened. As she was crossing the river, her foot slipped on a mossy rock, and she was sent plunging into the water below.
He stood there stunned as she sank below the surface. After the spell which held him bound dissolved, he dove into the water and pulled the beautiful girl from her death. Her wet hair was clinging to her face, and pulling it away revealed a large bump was forming on her head. He bent down and gently dissed her cheek, covered her with his jacket, and as she started to stir, he dissappeared behind the trees.
That is where the line between the dream and reality grows fuzzy, because he had done the same thing everyday since. He wandered around doing the things he needed to do to get by and watched as the pretty girl turned into the most beautiful and saught after young woman in all the surrounding towns. Everyday he regretted leaving her there by the river, and he often wondered how differently his life could be if he hadn't. He sighed as he climbed into bad knowing that just as sure as the sun was setting outside, he would dream of her tonight.
When he went to market the next moring, it was abuzz with word that a ball was going to be held that night. He decided that tonight would be the night he would change his life. He went home and put on his nicest outfit. He shaved his face, combed his hair, and with one last look in the mirror, mounted his horse and set off. As he reached the end of his dusty lane, thunder sounded over the mountains and a few fat raindrops fell on his hat. Even with the rain falling harder and harder with each of the horse's steps, he rode on with undaunted optimism of what the night might bring.
Upon arriving at the ball, he quickly settle his horse and then went in search of the beautiful girl. The house was elegantly decorated and packed full of charming, smiling people. It seemed as though there were hundreds of people pressing in around him, but he found her where he knew she would be. she was in the ballroom twirling around and looking stunning in her sparkling dress. Her hair was bouncing merrily around her face with every movement she took. He sat down on a chair in the corner and watched as tthe whole room lit up whenever she would smile. She looked so happy, and every eye in the room was on her. He looked down at the small hole forming on the right knee of his pants and knew he would ruin the happiness she had if he were to win her heart. He couldn't give her a big house with cooks, and maids, or fancy dresses like the other men in the room could.
Right then the cheerful conversations of the room were inturrupted by a bolt of lightning that illuminated the mountain line outside followed by a deafening boom of thunder. Suddenly the lights in the whole house went out, and when they flickered back on, everyone went back to their dancing. No one noticed that the chair in the corner was empty and the tired lonely man was gone.
The night wore on and when the ball was over and the beautiful graceful girl was alone in her house, the air of happiness she always wore evaporated, and a single tear made a path down her cheek. There was an aching inside of her that never went away. There was some deep yearning for something she needed thoguht she didn't know what it was. Something poked at the bakc of her mind, but she couldn't remember what was so important.
She went to bed that night and had a dream of a boy with freckles scattered across his nose and perfect green eyes. She woke with a start and ran to the attic where she spend the rest of the night looking for something that might not exist. She finally found the dust covered box in the back of the attic just as the sun started to shine above the horizon. When she opeend up the box and saw the carefully folded and worn jacket lying there, she knew what it was that kept her awake at night.
She threw her robe on over her nightgown and ran all the way to the outskirts of town. She ran down the dusty lane, splashing through newly formed puddles as she went, and arrived at a humble little cottage.
she knocked on the door and it slowly creaked open. She entered, a little apprehensive, and looked around the room. Finally her eyes rested on a small folded piece of paper. With trembling hands she picked it up and read these words:

To whomever it may concern:

Though no one will probably take notice of my absence, it felt wrong not at least leaving some dind of a memento to the only house and town I have ever known. I have gone away and will not be returning. I don't know where I am going, but it will be far away as to keep from burdening those I care about with my existence. It saddens my heart to know my eyes will never look upon this beautiful town again, but know that you are better off without me there.

She read and reread the letter time after time searching desperately for a name or hint hidden within, but it wasn't there. she placed the carefully folded letter in her pocket knowing that htis day would forever haunt her nights. She started the slow journey back to town, her head hung low and and emptiness in her eyes, a wondering of what might have been if she had only come sooner pounding her skull.
She was halfway down the lane when the sound of an almost familiar voice gently said her name. she turned, her heart not daring to hope for fear of dissappointment, but there he was, his still perfect green eyes staring into hers. His packed suitcase fell to the ground splashing the contents of a mud puddle on the cuffs of his pants, but he didn't notice. He was too caught up in her presence.
As she ran to him and he held her, another tear ran down her face, but this one wasn't from sadness. She had found what was missing from her life, and the emptiness inside of her now overflowed with joy. Likewise the sad lonely man didn't feel sad or lonely anymore because he finally belonged in a story, and from that day on he was rarely seen not smiling.

Modeled after Tennyson

In my Brit Lit class we are studying Tennyson and his poem "In Memoriam" and we had to write 4 stanzas that were similar in feeling and rhyme scheme to his. I wrote about when I was younger and the feelings I had after we moved. It was indeed a dark period in my life and when I would get upset I would go outside during the night and pray and cry and write poetry. It was during these times that I actually came to rely on my Savior and felt His love for me. No amout of words can convey the deepness of my sorrow, but this is a little piece of it.

Stars above twinkle in ubelief
Grass below whispers of new frost
The wind tears away what's already lost
And the soul tries to forget its grief

A place so foreign, so odd, so new
A place that drains emotions from
The hope that someone will finally come
To wipe away tears as thick as dew

"Someone, please someone," the heart cries out
And outstreched is held a hopeful hand
For anyone who might understand
The hand's filled with hope, but the mind with doubt

The cold and dark are slowly torn
And eyes search to see who will heal
The eyes can't see, but the heart can feel
The Savior on who all cares are born