DEBBIE BROOKS LANGFORD

DEBORAH BROOKS LANGFORD

INVISIBLE ANGLES

Friendship and all its invisible angles

Forms serenity with stars in my eyes

Every time friendship blows into my life

It single handedly holds me till death 


When the friendship ends


Bring ripped into - is the norm~

Maybe friendship in all its glory

Fades like everything else in my life

An elusive mystery, a well-kept secret

From the beyond~

At the end of my life

When I really will be alone

Sitting in the morning in fifth

The sun peeking through

Doesn’t mean a thing

As a teardrop breaks me down~

What happened to the friendship?

How did it die?

How do I define it?

Friendship in its disappearing act

Like none you have ever seen~

Friendship shouldn't make you feel less human

Friends should surround you

Not to regret our friendships

Just analyze true faces for sure~

Debbie Brooks Langford © Jan, 2018

WHY WE WRITE

A square of plywood

An index card pasted to one's chest

Explodes the mind


While dreaming in that 


Uncomfortable chair~

A true-life horror

Never occurring that

Something is lost to sustain

For another day~

Bedrock of mourning of winters blame

With A Voice Worth Hearing

And tales worth telling

Ranging and rearranging words

They rub off ones mind

Against one another

At odd angles and shot off sparks~

With nothing to sustain us

We write from pain. Life and love

None of these barbs matter to our

Stoic little shoebox of a mind

We write regardless

To be happy

We write because we can~

Debbie Brooks Langford © Feb. 2018

FAR AWAITED ASSURANCE

White satin

Something lace

Garments Billow in the wind 


As her body drifted lazily~

He answered "yes my dear, I will follow you anywhere.”

When asked to walk the wooden deck

He grabbed her hand leaned on the painted rail~

A wreath of roses tangled

In her ashen hair

Woven around her angelic face

The bloodstains of time past~

Made her delicate fingers shake

Clutching her rosemary whispered

For remembrance and pansies

For thought

No violets, for they grow naught~

"Oh look!" She panted " over there a small cloud forming."

"It's the smoke from burning life's...our souls are doomed don't you understand. Our fears are waiting.Looming.Over the horizon..."

Ovals of jade protruded

Gaze at the glass firmament

A never-ending lie

An aquarium of stars

Ophelia dreams with open eyes~

Debbie Brooks Langford  (c) Feb. 2018

DEBBIE BROOKS LANGFORD 

DEBBIE BROOKS LANGFORD : A published Author of 50 books, Vice President and Co-Owner of Wildfire Publications, LLC and Wildfire Magazine. A Wife and Mother and Grandmother.  And Loving Life.