This page is dedicated to my work, but if you send in something really creative, I might put it up too.
Her smile. It made the darkest night glow.
Her green eyes were so powerful.
She would stare into his face and wink.
He would then melt like a marshmallow in hot chocolate.
Now she was staring at him from six feet under.
He would never hear her laugh that made him tingle.
He was left weeping at her grave.
He could still see her hair blowing.
The wind was blowing now.
He thought he heard her whisper in his ear.
Quickly he glances to the small pond feet away.
She is there making ripples in its once smooth surface.
She is in the grass and blue sky.
It was a shame she touched so few lives.
But she touched his.
He takes one last glance at her tombstone, and knows.
She will always be with him in his heart and mind.
Always until they were together forever eternally in the sky.
For now he could wait until that day.
The words on her tombstone followed him.
Monica: God has taken back his angel from earth, but not from our heart And he walked away thinking about her green eyes and her smile that could make the darkest night glow.
This is the first poem I ever wrote, and following it is the second poem in what is beginning to become a series. There is this place at the edge of the water where she seeks tranquility.
She stands by the edge of the water.
Just looking, just thinking.
But what is she thinking about?
Life, her life or something less complicated.
No one knows but her.
Maybe she is thinking about her mother who is gone.
Her father who might as well be.
She is just looking, just thinking.
As she stands at the edge of the water.
There the mishaps of the day evaporates into trivial existence.
The lacksadaisical entities traversing the sky metamorphose under her manipulation to release memories from her subconcious.
Memories of when she lay in grass, noxious with the sculpted movements of tangible summer.
Noxious with the aroma of frivolousness that was her reality.
The melodious ramblings of the water as it saunters across the sand submerses her until the day is nothing more than a flittering mirage shimmering out of her vision into the mediocrisy of a firefly in a cognizant pattern of stars.
As the sun falls into yesterday, she rises sighing guturally, to leave.
The swarming images of picturesque beach leave her in a dizzy utopia which spreads across her.
All of this she feels as she stands at the edge of the water.
She stands silently thinking of the past.
The sun gazes down on her.
But she doesn't notice it or the wind blowing her hair.
All she can see is his eyes.
Those beautiful brown eyes that conveyed all that is him.
Gazing upon her from the grave.
After all these years she can still see them.
As though he is staring right at her now.
Suddenly she realizes someone is.
From above, in the heavens.
And again she see those beautiful brownies.
With this knowledge, she smiles and walks off into the waiting day.