Age Before Beauty- Part II

These deviations have been around for a while, but they are no less beautiful then the new deviations in my inbox.

I hope you enjoy!


    




Days Come and Go QuicklyThe world is a mixture of color
blended together with light and sound.
People pass as I sit, unnoticed.
I watch and wonder.
As I watch in my quiet world,
I imagine a world without sound.
A world of actions and mines
acting out everything they need to say.
Would people pass and notice me then,
or would I still be the ever present
fly on the wall observer?
Questions, questions
floating in my head.
As I quietly watch and wonder.     the marionetteA paper heart has paper dreams, silent cries, and fragile seams.
Two hearts are scribbled in dark blue crayon.  The paper bleeds as the clumsy hand tries to set them free. Red paint dries on the unappreciated savior as it is left on the cluttered desk.  Fluttering to the floor the ghost of wings can be seen on the tiny thing.  When the heart touched the ground it didn't even make a sound.  It simply tore in two because the love was true.
Glass eyes can still see sparkling masks on metal trees.
The needle darts in and out of the canvas colored fabric.  Glass spheres that sparkle like stars are carefully secured to the dolls face.  The heart was retrieved from the floor and taped together before being sewn inside the delicate thing.  Her eyes twinkle and stare up at the mysterious puppeteer.   The mask formed perfectly to his face and reflected her curiosity back at her like a mirror.  His fing     SyncopeCells dance away from limbs
that tingle cooly, becoming heavy
as sand pours into numbing skin.
Sway, sway like one slow-waltzing with a ghost
whose arms do not hold you steady,
whose feet have forgotten how to lead...
And the black butterflies promenade,
a graceful swarm crowding out the world –
Fall well, enchanted by a fainting spell.



   

<da:thumb id="152332465"/>     A Road and the Rains.                    The quiet rains
          have come today.
     I will my heart
to end the pain.
     The shock,
          a graceless pirouette,
     a double take
                    and emptiness.
          The throb encaged,
                    enraged and beating,
     desperate to escape.
          Whittle a while in a daze,
A brume formed
            Chills Skeleton fingers
Dancing up
And down
My spine
A tingling
Of premonition
An inkling
Of devastation
This fear
I have
Deep inside
Is manifested
In these
Chills