So beautiful, Vixyy... so beautiful. Perfectly observed and hauntingly written.

*hugs the Vixyy*

... oh... I seem to have something in my eyes. Excuse me a moment...

I just got goose bumps ya silly dragon...

thank you for that...

V.

Sad. But beautiful. Even if this is written as a poem, it tells a story. A sad story, but a story still. I'm not good at analysing poetry, I just say I liked this. Great little piece, I enjoyed reading this.

thank you Panzer... it was a lunch time work... but the feeling was right and the mood was on me so it flowed nicely... I like when that happens. I'm happy you liked it.

V.

Another beautiful piece. You're very talented, no matter what you're writing. I love the way you spaced everything out too. It was pretty to look at even before you begin reading it.

you are far too kind... but thank you. I like doing word pictures - or thinking of the flow as a picture... just don't aske me to rhyme.

V.

You wrote it out elegantly; it's a disarmingly pretty tale.

thank you so much Shade... *smiles and givs him a hug... you made my morning...

V.

*sniffles*

*wipes her nose with a keenex... thank you dear...

V.

*giggles* thank you *hugs*

A poem, a story, a beauty.

An elegant tale... You can leave home, but home won't leave you.

thank you P... I actually did part of this in a day dream... the images of home were quite vivid.

V.

the most powerful form of literature is literature that touches the reader to the very soul with emotion. Well done as always.

thank you so much... in part it was your letter that also had an influence... as well as a day dream I had... all very vivid.

V.

now isnt this a twist, your writing is usually my influence, not vise-versa lol *hugs tight*

*hugs back tightly...

V.

Pretty collage of regret and longing woven into poetic form. Thanks for the read!

you're very welcome hun... and thank you for reading too

*hugs...

V.

Sigh, I left home so long ago, no one is left to return to, even if I wanted to.
My past was buried, but it haunts me still. Usually late at night when I waken
from sleep with a cry and a thudding in my chest. Am I going to be beaten
again. No, no..my tormentors, my foster parents molder in the ground, now
less than dust, as I shall one day become as well.

*gives him a knowing hug...

not all of the past is so good T... try to only remember that which is kind and loving hun...

V.

*smiles tiredly... end of the work day here and much appreciated... your words will see me home tonight.

*gives him a hug...

V.

Oh... That is very touching. On many levels...

gives her such a hug.... thank you so much... I can still walk up that hill - see it - smell it - feel it - some things never leave you.

V.

Not really one for poems, but the imagery was very good.
Especially the descriptions of the sounds and smells upon entering the room.

thank you so much - I especially am pleased that it struck you so...

*hugs...

V.

Pretty cool..I'm not familiar with the meter but it seems to work.

You did very well with images..the pane of glass came to me very vividly, both as it was and as it was dreamed.

thank you so much Hauke... pretty much a lot of that was my own mind going to that exact place...

V.

You know me, I don't think much of fiddling aroud with visual placement of lines in poetry. But this reads well aloud, which definitely counts for something.

And the images are great; rarely do recounted streams of thought and impression seem both authentic and have any real resonance, but this does.

And the mom connection's poignant-- spooky, maybe even. Nostalgia and regret really can be spooky. I think, anyway.

Finally, though, this has a texture or something that much reminds me of Khalil Gibran. You know, Khalil, "How shall my heart be unsealed, unless it is broken?" Gibran. Which is absolutely boss.

*gives him a big hug..

I'll take your word for it on Khalil... I'm not really that well read. I'm glad you liked it... really really... it is a place I can go back to in my mind... so many good thoughts and never consideration for the bad that happened.

*gives him another hug....

V.

"Yet I have to go, so that one day I may return home once more"

Very touching story. *sad smile*

*gives her a hug... thank you Cerih... very much...

V.

*bows* My pleasure, as always.

*** cries too much to comment. ***

*gives him a long warm hug.....

V.

I Nearly cried when reading this. There was a Time when I couldn't talk to my mother or father, and when I was able to communicate, with them. I had no answer, I emailed my father, finally having the internet, i was able to tell then the strange number calling was me. and I was finally able to talk to my best friend/mother.

I'm so happy you called them... it is important...

I'm also glad you liked my words... many of the images were of my own past...

*hugs...

V.

*hug's back* Yeah we all have to go fly on our own, and some time's going back, even just to say hi is heard.

You know....being in the service one of my only comforts is knowing I can eventually go home.
This is a great poem. Nice work.

Thank you for that Tyger - and thank you for yur service - God Bless you..

V.

Thank YOU for your poem.
Thank you very much. God Bless you and don't forget to celebrate veterans day.

Softly sad and touching. Makes me happy of the blessings I have and sad that I can't go home more often.

same here... except in my mind....

V.

*hugs*

The last few lines made my breath catch in my throat. Maybe it's just me, the way I let things affect me, but this poem was quiet powerful. I really love the descriptions you use, they're so accessable to most readers.

*saved and faved*

*gives him such a large hug... it affected me too... because I went there...

V.

and such a blessing to have a partner to walk the paths with in the waking times

“Did you speak with her this time?”
“Yes… no… I began to…”
“Next time.”
“Yes… next time.”

I cried.

*gives him such a hug.... I did too....

V.

I haven't talked to my family in years. I know that feeling all too well. longing to be home, but knowing that you can't return is really devastating.

*pops him lightly in the arm...

so call them silly, before it's too late.

V.

ahh. looong story. I pretty much disowned them, and they pretty much did the same to me. I don't know if I'm ready for something like that. there is a difference of "home" as an innocent child, and then realizing that the old idea of home is gone, and replaced with reality. there is nothing that I could do to ever go back to that home from when I was a little one.

*sighs...

mine is gone to time - for you there is always hope.

V.

*hugs* thanks, I know time is fleeting, and holding grudges are stupid. just something I got to get over.

touching, sorrowful, and all too close to home

It was for me too... more than you could know...

V.

I have those dreams now. Visions of home

I go back in my mind all the time...

Vix