Then


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Then

It’s about time, for her.
She has worked unselfishly,
and has more than paid her dues.
Time, then, to remember herself.
The longer that she forgets,
then the more she has to lose.

A ten-hour day,
then kids, then dinner, 
and then it’s a half past six.

The others clean up,
then they head for their screens.
Then another hour ticks.

Then TV, for another two or three.
Then she is lost in her thoughts.
Her self, getting lost in the mix.

She gives, and she gives.
She gives some more,
and then, she gives.
Seldom, does she complain.
Never, does she consider
how she barely lives.

She stares, alone then,
vaguely through the mirror,
and then she washes her face.

She remembers morning practice.
Then sets her alarm ahead,
so they won’t have to race.

She turns back the covers.
T
hen reaches for her book.
And then she takes her place.

She gives, and she gives.
She gets very little,
and then, she gives.
Seldom, does he notice.
Never, does he appreciate
how the other half lives.

Then, in the silence, he fades.
There’s a mumbled ‘good night’,
and then it’s lights out.

Then she lies there awake.
Then along comes the pain.
And then, the self-doubt.

Then, the frustration builds.
Then the inevitable tears.
And then the urge to shout.

It’s then that she realizes
that this can no longer be 
what her life is about.

She gives, and she gives.
Then she wants more.
And then she knows.
Eventually, she recognizes.
Finally, she decides.
And it’s then that she goes.

It was time then, for her.
She knew she deserved better,
and she had every right to choose.
Time then, to rediscover herself.
The longer that she waited,
then the more she had to lose.

She is taking time, now, for her self.
Leaving her longing behind,
and making a solemn, personal vow.
She will take, as much as she gives,
because this is her time to live.
That was her then, and this is her now.

 

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Landing

Landing
Recent memories fill my head
as we soar back to our lives
Back to before, to our every days,
to an enhanced reality of what that is


Memories, of an ideal illusion,

where it is only us for a while
Longer whiles, with no limits
Waking up to nothing but time
Holding on, for as long as we can

Memories of your eyes inside mine
In sun and in moonlight
In the dim of any morning
Looking to each other for what comes next
Knowing that it could be anything

Memories of many more conversations
Of the way your words flow with mine
Of commonalities, and waves of blue
Sharing the ebb and flow our pasts
Understanding how we got to here

Memories of seven wonderful days,
forever part of our own story
An early chapter in a evolving romance 
Written with ease, from moment to moment,
on unbound sheets of crisp revelation


Your head lifts from my shoulder

as we drift slowly down to earth
With our memories safely on board,
the wheels reach for solid ground

pexels-photo-414916.jpeg

pexels-photo-414916.jpeg
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