Touchstone Memories
~*Marge Tindal*~

She caught a memory
held it tight
Pressed it to her heart
hoping it would not take flight~

She turned the memories
inside out
Looking for that something
she would learn to live without~

Oh, she shook the memory tree
until it's branches were bare
Caressed each thought
with the tenderest of care~

In a velvet-lined box
she laid her thoughts in the space
she'd reserved for the memories
when she'd need to re-trace
her smile at the end of a perfect day spent
the poetic verse ~ spirit sent
In moments alone she has loved this land
Then quietly, with a touch of her hand
she placed a 'touchstone'
in honor grand~

Knowing she'd come back
when she needed the touch
For never has a parcel of land
been loved so much~

Just for me, as I leave this piece of land
Thankful the memories garnered
are overwhelmingly precious
To leave a small piece of
my heart buried among
the memories here
is to leave a tiny
touchstone of
myself
~*~

~*The pen of the poet never runs out of ink, as long as we breathe.*~
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~Sinking fast into
an ocean of you,
what if I told you,
what if I said
that I love you
do we dare cross
that line between your
heart and mine~

Stand straight and tall, not the reflection as others see you, but as you truely are.        Clearwater

quote:

---

(this is what Marge REALLY wanted to write!)

---

So now it's time to say goodbye
To all my memories here
and I must say it quick !
And all the things reminding me
Of that sweet Balladeer.
cause he is such a Hmmmm !
I'm NOT going to ADULT for you~

I say goodbye to this old desk
Where I sat with delight
As Balladeer and I exchanged
Romantic verses every night.
I wrote the romance
you wrote the 'smartie' replies !
You blew it boy ...
Now take this ...
Right between the eyes~

I say goodbye to doves in trees
I wrote about so sweet
And Balladeer's reply that they
Were good enough to eat!
Now that's a fact
You cannot deny ...
Don't go there boy ...
don't even try~

Goodbye, front lawn. That Balladeer
Assured me he would mow you
But now that I am running out
He'll never get to know you.
Now this is one you really blew !
You'll not get to see
my 'all-over hue'~

This kitchen that we wrote about
Lovemaking on the table...
Will have to be remembered as
A "could have happened..." fable.
With my kitchen-cabinet muses,
Silter, Twiter and Tambra too
I doubt you could have 'made IT'
Without doing them too !

Green Swamp Road? I take my leave
Now you shall never hear
The foorsteps running down your lane
Announcing Balladeer.
LOL ... this one is sweet
Never did hear those size 12 feet~

Goodbye, dear bedroom. Poems I wrote
Described you in your glory.
I dreamed of Balladeer right here...
But that's another story.
Now here's one
for the books...
Never EVEN gave your 'glory' a look !

Goodbye, dear living room and couch..
We shared so many goals
Though Bal is for the Hurricanes (boo-hiss-boo !)
And I'm a Seminole.
(to the core ... Wahoo !)

Goodbye, dear house. I'm going now.
The end is drawing near.
Within your walls the memories will
Remain of Balladeer.
Yes, this house is haunted,
that's why I'm moving away
To rid myself of the memories
of Balladeer BEGGING to stay !

I've gathered one handful of dirt.
I did it on a whim.
Now every time I look at it
My thoughts will be of him!!!
Yep !
Did you ever stop to think
why a handful of DIRT
would make me think of YOU ...
OH !  Did that hurt !!!

*I'll still be here for your touché~

**Sorry kids ... I'll get the rest of you SWEET people on the next run !

~*The pen of the poet never runs out of ink, as long as we breathe.*~
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