Please feel free to write one

ddgryphon said:

Click to expand...

And no longer home,
but a falling meteor,
like a dream unkept,
a lonely place in the heart
never to heal.
That place in the summer
of youth, windows open
to catch a ghost of a breeze,
but no more.
A home creeps into memory
and still, like an arthritic hand
reaching to an empty sky church God,
the tree grows,
worries itself to an unspent blue.

Where I once hoped for silence,
countdown to empty nest,
where I strengthened my fence,
warning out all the rest.

Where walls thundered with strife,
arguments short and long,
nasty, stressed parts of life,
all I wanted was song.

Now I found, as have they,
my own new, duller pace.
As I pass this each day,
I know they were the place.

ddgryphon said:

Click to expand...

For Sale:
One large, very old tree.
Slightly bent and knobby
but strong and beautiful.

Will sacrifice to right buyer.

Comes complete with yard and once happy house,
suitable for restoration.

ddgryphon said:

http://fc01.deviantart.com/fs23/i/2007/328/9/d/How_to_Age_Gracefully_by_ddgryphon.jpg

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I know this place
It was here I learned
to catch grasshoppers
with a cupped hand
And how to break open
The green stalks growing
Next to the fence
Scraping out the sweet bread with my teeth

It was under this tree I hid from the sun,
Vainly shying from her kisses
While weaving dandelion chains

I remember the bee sting;
My surprise at the betrayal
And morbid interest
When the swelling came

There was a sparrow nest
Wedged between leaning clothesline poles
Full of downy fledglings
Their tiny mouths stretched in screeches
Awaiting the morning catch

I watched them learn to fly
Jumping heavenward one by one
Diminishing into small dots
‘cross the wide Wyoming sky

One was left behind
Tumbling feather first in the grass
I gently tucked her into bed
In a tissue lined old shoe box

When I came to feed her crumbled worms
In the crisp and dawning light
I still remember her cold eyes,
Her stiff and soulless breast

I buried her beneath the tree
Offering gifts of Indian bread
And I wore the withered dandelions
In a wreath around my head

Yes, I know this place well
It’s where I first discovered
That I was alive

ddgryphon said:

I need more of Ganesha's images, but mine will have to do in the pinch:

Feel free to add a poem:

http://fc01.deviantart.com/fs23/i/2007/328/9/d/How_to_Age_Gracefully_by_ddgryphon.jpg

Click to expand...

The Storm-Cloud Sky

Whispering sap-stained secrets, splintering,
We split incompletely, driftwood kindling,
Drop kisses down sparse leaves like rain,
Fog-blinded by this constant bickering.
Our house a house divided,
Painted white to hide the inconsistencies.
Growing away from sodden ground,
Your mysteries twisting into my stolen history.

Boarding up windows we lock out the sky,
Your beauty the sky, my body the sky.
Roots too dry reaching out towards the ground
Ground rain-soaked and sodden, defeated we fall
Fall into the water, away from the sky. Behind us
Our house, behind us vague mountains. We kiss
As thunderstorms. Fog-blind and bickering,
Splintering into our separate spaces we fall.

I would be happy to explain
But there is so much you do not understand.
Trials by fire and Demons dispossessed
Occasional cheery moments
Unexplainable rages
Tears in the night
And "Alley alley Over!!"
Picnics on the lawn in summer
Dad's belt snapping and twisting
Cold water on a hot day
Pickled cucumbers and onions
You climbing the cherry tree
To peek over the house.

I will give you sliced tomatoes
You will supply gravy and potatoes
One day we will understand
Life is more than the sum of its parts.



http://fc01.deviantart.com/fs23/i/2007/328/9/d/How_to_Age_Gracefully_by_ddgryphon.jpg[/quote]

So many dreams
and
so many memories
lost
in the decay
of
the ages.

It used to be they sat
and fed the birds beneath the tree.
Used to be you and me
by the fences looking in.

It used to be creaking noises,
feet wandering lost to the times,
knocks knocking rhymes,
now no one hears or sees but me...

...inside my memory.

the disease within
came out about
on neighbors' chatterly gossip
to their chagrin
it did begin
without a radar warning
two faced abased
a cancer rose
and struck with decayed poverty
and left and scarred the neighbors hard
oh woe is them most heartily

Laughter from the rages
Roots out of the past
Board broken from the vows
Never made to last.

The house is battered now,
wrung dry by wind and rain,
left alone
with a single twisted maple.
Once it rang with children
and drummed
the march of years
across wide plank floors.
White wisp smoke rose from its chimney,
signalling life
as eggs crackled
in an iron black skillet.
The tin roof
pattered at the rain
while good nights
echoed in the halls.
Life left it behind,
and windows that looked out
through flowered curtains
can only see
between the postings
of nail driven ply.
The house is shattered now,
wrung dry by wind and pain.