There exists no lexicon
For the echoes of emptiness here–
Where the azaleas bloom
Purple, pink, and white,
While dusty looking
Lavender sends up
Multiple spikes,
As roses yield up
Open, thirsting mouths
To the sky.
Though the soil here
Nourishes color and green
Growing things,
While life appears
Apparently abundant,
Although neighbors smile and wave,
The soil remains absent of truth, of meaning,
Of love—of a spirit—of a soul.
No lexicon exists for the emptiness
Echoing throughout the soil
In this place.
Hearing The Mermaids Sing 
The times when words evade are often the bleakest. A beautifully poignant write.
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Thank you
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God help us…
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Well done.
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Thank you
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I relate to your words so empatheticly. Powerful
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Thank you
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Wow… Annette, I really feel these lines! This is beautiful and sad.
Sincerely,
David
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Thank you
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You are very talented woman and I enjoyed reading everything you write and say because it comes from your soul so please Keep On Keepin
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