RobinHood08

As twilight diminishes the day's hope, The street lights beep alarm, The crowds throng the rushing pavements, Cold winds chilling their strawberry cheeks, The traffic horns pierce the strained ears, Pedestrians brush past, Their cigars smoking up desires, The church bells cry reassurance, As I run through the streets of Paris, Alone, Aching for the pillow, Yet dreading, A night of broken dreams.

Beauty is sought through imperfections, Not through physique or complexion. It is random and unexpected, Yet somehow, it's all connected. Beauty is uncovered through aged skin; Skin that's been tattered and worn thin. Those wrinkles reveal moments of joy, Along with tears, surmounted by destroy. Beauty lies in a crooked smile, Found on the face of an infant child. Beaming innocence and purity, Along with a sense of immaturity. Beauty is found in all of us, It's everywhere, a breathtaking mess. We must accept ourselves, and one another, For beauty shall live on, in us, forever. M.C.

        Bring back the roses to the dells ;    The swallow from her distant clime,        The honey-bee from drowsy cells.    Bring back the friendship of the sun ;        The gilded evenings, calm and late,   When merry children homeward run,        And peeping stars bid lovers wait.    Bring back the singing; and the scent        Of meadowlands at dewy prime;—   Oh, bring again my heart's content,        Thou Spirit of the Summertime ! W.A.