unfulfilled love - unrequited love - love relinquished - life unlived...

we all are gypsies of a sort wandering traveling through this life other lives space and time here there and yon on roads less traveled - this is a written and visual journal of my own travels - imagined and/or real - come along with me - we'll dance among the stars under the sun and over the moon - we'll share our stories of love around the campfire - come along -

poetry from the heart...

POETRY FROM THE HEART - my own words dedicated to all the words left unspoken, the acts left undone - the love unlived unfulfilled -

i dance with you...only in dreams...

tweet me, but tweet me gently, please!

Friday, May 28, 2010

the theft...

the more
she tried
to remember
to surrender
to the mist
of her faded memory
the more embattled her soul
as if some stranger
some trespasser
a foreign interloper
had quietly
and stealthily sneaked
into the deepest 
recesses of her self
and plucked and plundered
no more


Kay said...

oh, that's great! so eloquently written and mystical

lakeviewer said...

Oh my! It is what happens when that memory dredges up all kinds of gunk.


hi kay! wonderful of you to come by and leave such kind words - thank you very much!


love the way you put it, lake!!! ;)

Anonymous said...

I like this one ALOT! Very nice. Can relate somewhat. The theft of self, of what one used to be. Trying to hold on to the last withering strand.

Trish and Rob MacGregor said...

Memory. Where would any of us be without it? Beautiful, Gypsy, as always.


hello there sharla - so wonderful to have you over - yes, the theft of self - the loss of self - holding on to the last shred....


yes, and odd how our memory works - and/or doesn't work at times - a mind of its own - thanks so much trish!