that isn't me.......

What you see,
that isn't me.
Looks can be deceiving.

A moment close
is not enough,
to analyse the being.

A ghost of me,
you'll sometimes see,
slip in 'twixt sigh and tremble.

I'm in the voice,
behind the eyes.
The shadows shift and change.

Their eyes can fool
those near to me.
Perception each created.

A smile, a laugh,
that isn't me.
Perception my creation.

Name.........

Signature.
Sign/Nature.
Sign of Nature.
Sign of Being.
Sign of Existence..........
your name.

Charleston...........

Driving to Charleston, S.C. tomorrow to meet my two best friends from high school....... going to celebrate my 55th birthday............ the only downside is that my sister was supposed to join us...
but her job has other ideas......... This is my first trip to Charleston........ and my soul tells me it is going to be one great weekend! ........not coming back until Monday night..........

Excerpts......

Found two poems I wrote in a second journal about six years ago..........

We Didn't Get To Dance

Soft and smooth
like silk and satin.

We found the fit,
we knew the rythm.

One slow dance
would have been so nice.

After all this time
we still missed the chance - to dance.

****************************************************

From Me

Within myself
a struggle neverending.
Too much of love
and fear of some day ending.
Joy and grief
do feed and starve each other.
In balance
could one be without the other?

Dorothy Parker..........

Browsing through a journal I started shortly after leaving Michael....... came across this poem I copied written by Dorothy Parker.........

Indian Summer

In youth, it was a way I had
To do my best to please
And change, with every passing lad,
To suit his theories.
But now I know the things I know,
And do the things I do;
And if you do not like me so,
To hell, my love, with you!