My wild Texas rose
Kind mistress night brought her to me. The Austin, Texas bars brought people from all places together. When the moon took over the night sky. People from different places fell into one hope. Dance, laughter, drink and to enjoy the mystery of the night.
I went into a tavern/dance club and I saw three pretty ladies dancing together to the song of Bob Seger “Turn the page” on the dance floor . I drank my drink and I enjoyed the view. All of sudden. A beautiful strawberry blond hair girl asked me. Can you dance or are you waiting for the booze to kick in and to forget who you are? I held silence and I answered slowly. I’m just wasting time and trying to find reasons and purpose to be alive.
The Texas July heat had kicked in. Summer dresses and beautiful woman were everywhere…
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Senryu The sweetness of wine Poured for you by a lover Tastes even better Christine Bolton – Poetry for Healing ©
“When I die, don’t hurt for me.
Know that I’m safe and sound.
That I’m always with you.”
When I die, don’t mourn for me. Know that I’m forever asleep, dreaming for the rest of eternity. When I die, don’t miss me. Because I’m always with you. In your hearts. In your memories. Know that I’m always right beside you. When I die, don’t hurt for me. Know that I’m safe and sound. That I’ll be there for all the big moments. Even the little ones too.
Just as long as you don’t forget me.
© Sarah Doughty
So, please, don’t ever forget me.
This is for you, Dee….
Earrings and bracelets, laid aside
Into their boxes, to safely abide
Worn with elegance, flair, and pride
No longer do they adorn
Photos, in an album, bent
Pictures of the one who meant
So very much, is now absent
Leaving her family, forlorn
Little reminders, around us dance
To catch a glimpse, perhaps, perchance
Of her spirit, one last glance
She would not want us to mourn
Instead, to remember a giving heart
A lover of opera, and collectible art
The happier times, of which we were part
For into her world, we were born
Authors Note: The picture above, from left to right is, my Aunt Dee, my Nana, my Mom, and that’s me in the front, taken mid to late…
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Senryu Sometimes in silence You can see a clearer path To your happiness Christine Bolton – Poetry for Healing ©
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tea and meditation
music and imagination
scent of buddleia
jasmine and tobacco.
The liquid sound
of birds singing
exultant and free
in the garden.
sending quiet kisses
on the warm breeze
across the miles
hoping they find you.
© the author writing as Romantic Dominant
Not brand new – but I am sending kisses.
Art by Lenin Delsol