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The truculent sun
escapes cloud guard
& serves us day

over green bonnet trees
that birth false fruit
where wasps crawl.

Now the roads fill
with rioting flax,
rose rays, rude rain -

there's too much life -
the world's heart is burst,
blonde-broken sobs.
Minor revision for better flow/logic
  Feb 1 Agnes de Lods
Nemusa
round waterlily,  

fragile holding above surface,  

dancing with the light.
Agnes de Lods Jan 31
The story of two people,
sitting in the gentle night.
They hold their hands
without impatient fear.
Maybe this is true intimacy?

Too many plans, too many
subtle strategies
in the hiding place—
everything to avoid
the pain after.

Longing for what could be,
we say goodbye
to the now,
that leaves so quickly.

Between words,
taming the common confusion,
we will never come any closer
to another human being.

Celebrating the quiet feeling
of comprehension,
absorbed by the paradox of facts—
above differences, imposed tattoos.

We are sitting in the deep,
friendly night,
holding entwined hands
with an ephemeral moment
of fulfilled, trusting intimacy.
The idea came
to my mind
it crystallised
in my heart
feelings began
to suffuse
words broke
into verse-
to be hidden
they did refuse-
the creative muse
is an endless wonder:
fiery, fearless, dauntless
and uncompromising
it can't be defused!
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