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                              -Poems & Memories-
                            by Donna Ivins-Cobain
                              Typed by Tal Meta

I have some things I would like to share with the world in general.
A lifetime ago, there was someone in my life who either saved me or
scarred me beyond repair; this person was, of course, female.
Of the many things we shared, the one thing I still have possession
of is her poems. I would like to share her poems with you.
So, without further ado, here they are.

                        ---------SAND CASTLES

                            Early morning
                     I built a castle in the sand
                             by the sea.

                           Then a wave came
                         and washed it away.

                      So I built another castle
                         higher on the beach
                         away from the waves.

                         this one had a wall
                              and a moat
                            and a bridge.

                      But then the tide changed
                      and washed away my castle.

                           So again I built
                     this time high on the shore
                         away from the tide.

                       I built towers and walls
                  with doors, windows and courtyards

                            Then the wind
                         picked up my castle
                    and scattered it on the beach.

                            So I went home
                      and built another castle.

                           Three days later
                              it rained.
                              I watched
                as my castle dissolved into the sand.

                                Later
                         I saw another castle
                             in a store.

                       So carefully constructed
                  with all the things a castle needs
                       all beautifully detailed
                          and weatherproof.

                      I almost bought the castle
                               but then
                       it would sit on a shelf
                           and gather dust.

                     So I went back to the beach
                    and there I saw a little girl
                        building a sand castle
                         smiling contentedly.

                         I wanted to tell her
                    she was too close to the water
                        a wave would soon come
                      and wash away her castle.

                             But I didn't
                 for there was something in her smile
                          peace, contentment
              perhaps the knowledge of what would happen
                         to her masterpiece.

                            Then she left
                            and I watched
                          as the waves came
                     and washed away her castle.

                         Her castle was gone.
                            As mine were.

                        But then I remembered
                            castles built
                        and castles destroyed.

                              But mostly
                     I remembered the little girl
                            and her smile.


                            ----------LIFE

               The road of life may be long and rocky,
           it may wind between dark chasms and high cliffs,
          up between the crags where the bitter winds howl.

          Yet the path of life may lead through soft grass,
                over rolling hills and quiet meadows.
                         By a gentle stream,
                         filled with solace.

                   ----------AND THEN THE RAIN CAME

                               Nothing;
                    Nothing in the heavens above,
                       nor in the earth below,
                           wishes to move.

                       Neither bird, nor beast,
                         nor fish, nor plant,
                            wants to move.
             Wants to grow, to think, to act, to breathe.

                        People - walk slowly.
                       Watching wvaes of steam,
                      radiate off the pavement,
                      blurring distant objects.

                          Children, running,
                 their scarlet faces shine brightly.
                          Yet they run slow,
                    as if they too carry a burden.

                              The air -
                        heavy and oppressive -
                           hangs in space.
                       A sticky vaccum of time,
                    in which all are encompassed.

                     A small, dark cloud appears.
                         On the far horizon.
                              It nears -
                              gradually.

                        A small gust of wind,
                        a breath of fresh air.
                       The cloud comes quickly,
                     pushing back the stillness.

                       Then, covering the sun,
                  it envelopes all in a grey shroud.
                    Made of finely woven feathers,
                          and spider's web.

                        The wind moves freely,
                       the trees sway and bend,
                   a dog barks, and children laugh,
                       and then the rain came.

                         -----------MY FRIEND

                      Whenever I needed someone,
                            he was there.
                          When I was lonely,
                         he would come to me.

                          Whenever I called,
                            he would come,
                          leaving anything,
                            to be with me.

                          Whenever I called,
                            he would come.
                           Until one night,
                       one dark November night.

                              For once,
                      he didn't answer my call.
                              For once,
                       he didn't come running.

                              For once,
                          he didn't hear me.
                          He couldn't hear,
                     couldn't see, couldn't run.

                         He lay by the road,
                         his chest torn open.
                        And I cursed the sky,
                       for what a car had done.

                           -----------ANGEL

                       Let me tell you a tale,
                        of an angel that fell,
                      by a dark and stormy gale,
                         from heaven to hell.

                         She fell in a trap,
                        this trap called love.
                      Doors closed with a snap,
                       O'er the innocent dove.

                      Now with her wings broken,
                          and unable to fly,
                        her heart was stolen,
                       by a charming young guy.

                          So simple was she,
                         so enchanted by him,
                        she knew not to flee,
                      when he left her by whim.

                     For those memories of hers,
                        she kept close nearby,
                        heightening the curse,
                       of her life in the sky.

                       Only a human he'd love,
                      so become human she must.
                        And this angel above,
                    knew that man came from dust.

                        So this little angel,
                     knowing mortals aren't just,
                          added some devil,
                       human traits, and dust.

                    That this dust was her death,
                      she knew and was certain.
                       But she held her breath,
                   let life close, like a curtain.

                       Now she no longer flew.
                         She no longer could.
                      Her wings clung with dew,
                       her soul turned to wood.

                         As Christ had died,
                           hung from above,
                            now she died,
                           hung up on love.

                       For when she added dust,
                      she made a fatal mistake.
                       An angel, she knew, must
                        never, never partake.

                         But she took it in,
                      to become human, and fell.
                           An angel in sin,
                       now angel dust in hell.

                         -----------THE HEART

                      A heart cannot be stolen,
                    nor can it be bound by chains.
                 It is that which makes eyes swollen,
                and makes the sunshine from the rain.

                        A heart must be given,
                           not taken away.
              Or, like the rains that fall from heaven,
                   love will come, then drain away.

                        You can hold a heart,
                    but its like holding the sea,
                   you could never keep every part,
                     for part you must let free.

                        A heart can be broken,
                          that much is true.
                       Like a tiny glass token,
                         cast from the blue.

               But a heart once given is given forever,
       to keep thee and guide thee through all thee endevours.

                             ----------IF

                       If you were a fine mist,
                         I'd live in a swamp,
              so that your gentleness would surround me.

                       If you were stong winds,
         I'd climb each day to the tops of the highest crags,
                   so that you could hold me tight.

                    If you were a small keepsake,
            I'd place you in a locket hung 'round my neck,
               so that you would be close to my heart.

           But you're not a mist, nor wind, nor a keepsake.
                Nor can I keep you, nor make you stay.
                So all that I can do is ask you to be:
                          My forever friend.


Thats all the ones I could find. Perhaps one day, she'll read this file.
But I wouldn't bet any money on it!

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