Thursday, May 30, 2013

A Comforter

The Lord is kind and we are blind,
So in his arms we find,
A solace from the sin he binds.

Wednesday, May 29, 2013

The Harvest

The cold morrow,
The chirping sparrow,
All with a purpose all aglow.
Meet the grace as pure as snow,
Heaven above, earth below,
How heavy the burden may seem,
When with the wind it blows,
The harvest that we reap,
We also did sow.


Monday, May 27, 2013


So many people, so many lives,
How many strive,
and how many dive,
Through the thin facade of fantasy,
into the uncanny reality?

Sunday, May 26, 2013

A Sentiment

 Story letters from Z.O.Z. and myself.

  My dearest,
In a brighter frame of mind, I might say I am well. I am not. Not well at all. I wish I could melt into a puddle, and float away, down the stream of my own mind. What I wouldn't give for a hand to hold..
Why is it we speak so much, yet I feel no warmth from you..? I thought it was me.
 I tried again and again to change for you. Nothing made a difference, because it was not I, after all.
You never loved was my silly childish dream to believe a man like you would ever love such a silly, silly girl. I don't think you have a heart, do you? It Is as I thought, you are devoid of feeling. If you do have a heart, it must be as cold as your eyes. How could you shun me so? Without even a remorseful thought? I LOVE you!! Or I, I do still. Because I am silly, as mother always said.
Your betrayal cuts deeper than the knife you plunged into his majesty's heart. Please write to me..I will not shun YOU.

-Violet Wilde


You are the silly girl you used to be, and you will always be. Like your name, your emotions run wild. I could never love such a flippant girl. That you are a child, I am adamant.
The king deserved that jeweled dagger. They LITERALLY celebrated at his funeral. I am an outlaw, yet a celebrity. Please do NOT reply to this. I simply haven't the time. Though you are annoying, you always linger in my mind...


Monday, May 13, 2013


Red is love and red is hate, please don't tell me you love me or on my nerves you shall grate!
Pink is bubbly and pink is haughty, Free me. From the giggling girl, from the piercing eyes of she.
Purple isn't deep, nor is it shallow, it's not contempt nor disdain. It's achy, sobby, WANT. You can have it, but you must give. Will you? Indecision.
Green is sick and green is minty fresh. Green is springy light-hearted-ness. Oh! Bliss!
Blue is sad and blue is deep. Take a daring leap and see, you can soar in the air or swim in the sea. Oh, so free!
Orange is peeved and oranges are peeled. It's full of zest and citrus, orange is a spice to life.
Grey is melancholy, grey is sad. Deep sighs roll, thunder sounds. Dark clouds gather, casting shadows on the ground.
Black is deep and black is wide, my pen over this paper glides. My mind's carpet is leaving on a trip, I'm along for the ride. I am off to the side, hanging onto the tassels, gripping for dear thoughts.
Black is my inner being.

Yellow is for Cedar Sunshine of course!



Saturday, May 11, 2013


    A man with once broad shoulders, now hunched with age.
He has white hair on both sides of his head, a smooth island of skin is isolated atop the face,
Crinkled by laughter, and also by tears.
A pair of gray-blue eyes peer at you through metal rimmed glasses,
This man, Full of God,
This man who has lived through 61 years of marriage,
And had 7 kids,
This man 83 years old,
This man,
Is my Ggpaw.
Do you have a Ggpaw too?

Ggpaw = Great grandfather

-Cedar :)

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Friday, May 10, 2013


   With trembling hands, he stands,
A pile of parchment he holds, all folded so neat.
   Who should these letters greet?

None other than his brother.
   So blackened and soiled are his hands, which hold the letters,
Written to his betters.
   An honest man, his brother was, all the letters proclaimed,
But why should all these arrows at me be aimed?
   The man frowned.
A horrid lad, so beastly bad!
  So all the letters had said.
Maybe that is what led to a worse life instead?
   HE had it all!
So why should the blame fall on me?
   Over was I called, however I stalled,
Still was I here, when he steared,
   Nearer and nearer...
to that fated bay.

   Where his enemy laid.

His watery grave holds him as a slave.
   He wasn't brave, merely too far into a rave.
Deeply sighing, he lets go of all.
   Down floats the parchment papers.
They fall and taper together with all the rest,
   On his stone cold breast.