![]() As You Wish and other poemsA Poem by Richard Hartshorn![]() move? you're alive. if you want, I could fly.![]()
Hello, My name is Inigo Montoya, You Killed My Father, Prepare to Die
Your curls bring me solace when surrounded by a moat some would use for sightseeing, but which I fear to cross and feel some great glory when I have. Your eyes, even when hidden behind black shields, bring me warmth in a castle that refuses to crumble. Although I know this stone will still stand here when I am gone, I know it wont be talked about as much as the nonfiction legends we created during hot-chocolate-covered walks along the snowy paths and the crunching orange leaves. Dont think about the last time youll see me, think about the first time youll see me tomorrow. Men of Action As lucid as a cold teardrop Lost in a pond I see that only half the tears are mine I can only see your face through a pane of glass I wish I could have looked you in the eyes And say what I wanted to say Your voice is a strawberry raindrop A dance that I cannot follow I hold it in my cupped hands Scratch the glass I remember your hands cupped over my eyes You laughing As dated as the tears that follow when I think about how long ago it was My eyes speak it Close and forget only to keep it in another day Sorry to say I cant fully bring it back Thought that maybe the whole thing was just made up But when I thought about it I remembered. Your face through a thin layer of glass melting into mist, my sea after the storm. Miracle Pill Be sure to slide your heart under my door in early morning In the eve by the fire Ill give your secrets a home. ROUS There are times when I cannot gather enough dirt in my hands to produce a story worth pitying. Temptations, bothersome thoughts they only form solid daggers that will jam the portcullis. Luckily, Ive you to catch me when the poison becomes too strong to stand. It was more than I could have asked for when we started, and here we are again. Back to the beginning. As You Wish Told you Id see you at the bottom of the hill but it seems those promises have faded over time. Which of us forgot about them first? The little things in my mind always told me to leave but seeing you in that red dress, skin like wintery cream after all these years revives me. Hold me close, if only to hear my promise. I wont get eaten by the sharks this time. © 2008 Richard HartshornReviews
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