Run the Symphony Backwards

Run the Symphony Backwards

When I am ninety-two
they take me from my bed.
Dressed in my floral nightie,
I am more than ready to return.
Somewhere in the distance
I hear a blast of music,
as the song gathers itself.
It’s been on repeat this past week.

All silver and shining,
I wake to put pen to paper.
Still writing down dreams,
loving these croning years.
At 70 years of age
I give up work on my birthday,
to hold my partners hand
and dance around supermarkets.

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The First Rose of Spring

The First Rose of Spring

One soft spring day
In middling March
A gentle butterfly
Alighted upon the
Most glorious flower
She had ever seen
Startled by her attraction
To this beautiful flower
The butterfly at first shied away
Not sure of what she was feeling
Having both weathered many brave storms
They danced in delightful words
The butterfly was enchanted
And enjoyed being around the flower
Soaking up the love light & laughter
Of this truly inspirational flower

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