Unnamed~

Green gray are these mine which sees not quite finely
Perhaps not in tune with light or perhaps more so
What sights one sees when the shutters are drawn
Define more precisely in dark quarters
There imagery works its magic
And time, when not observed, allows for the disappearing of walls
Creating windows with a better view
Opening arenas for music and art
Which leaves my cup overflowing
Its excess not captured ~ Maggie ~ August 5, 2010 @ 9:35 p.m. EST

Merry am I in the chores that I do
For I hum out music when I am with you
The chore is made merry knowing that you are there
Even when not beside me and I am unaware
Heightened are my senses, and sing I do dare
With all I can muster and without any care
Up to the door you silently you creep
With the alarm of the floor boards
I let out a shriek
The dishes go flying
My song’s at an end
It matters not as I will sing it again ~ Maggie ~ August 5, 2010 @ 9:52 p.m. EST

Lost~

I am there in whatever fashion I may be at the time holding him tightly.  My arms eventually give way to tears of departure.  The going to is always easier than the leaving from.  This is where the problem lies.  Tears swell and exit creating warped vision as my mind races to come up with quick fixes.  How does one fix that which is not truly broken?  What remedy can aid the heart that hurts not so from malady?  None I say!  None.  How then dear one shall we fix this?  Hum.  We three watchers may tellest thee, but thou must pay heed and know thy deeds. ~ Maggie ~ August 2, 2010 @ 11:32 p.m. EST