Poetry of John Shaw
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      Sigh

      8/2005

      Sigh, Breath.
      Cry, Breath!
      Why?, BREATH!
      Bye, breath.

      And so the end begins
      we hang on, thinking, dwelling, retelling
      Coming up from under the whater with the perfect words
      for the perfect moment, though passed it was forever down the
      drainpipe of time.
      try we again, half pretend, to mend, but not with our whole hearts.
      For these hearts are broken.
      Offered up in token to the goddess of love in sacrifice,
      that her cruelness be tolerated once more,
      for chances still at a greater good we all hope for.
      But before we scratch a notch know this single mark is not the
      whole story.
      There are volumes left to fill with this love past but lingering still.
      She was a beauty of brilliant bright light,
      shown into my darkened days warm through the night,
      and there I finally was clouds lifted,
      sight shifted and happy, happy in love.
      And I think she was too.
      For in the magic of moments past our souls touched,
      touched sweetly, serenely, and seemingly longer by many times
      than it could have actually been.
      Everything else became unrecognizable and we could only see each other's love,
      and there is no regret in that.
      For to have seen so purely one so beautiful as you is worth the
      process even if for one moment.




      --------------------------------
      Comment: Was lost but finally found.


    Email: john@jfds.net

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