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 Jan 2019 Solomon
Star BG
My pen is a heaven sent miracle.
A quill as if blessed by bird.

It dances cross fields of white
anointing page.

It gracefully moves
with intention to bond
inside readers eyes and breath.

It becomes sword of light
to aid a sad readers heart
and opens windows
for harmony.

My pen is like metronome
that ticks consistently
to meter rhyme.
And drifts with lyrical song
that echoes Divinely.

Yes, my pen is a heaven sent miracle,
and I am the poet that holds its essence.
inspired by chat with Solomon-- Thanks
 Jan 2019 Solomon
Star BG
And when I awoke
a divine angel of light
came gracing my eyes.
Shining through trees majestic form.
Bonding to whistle with wind.

It was sight to behold.
A powerful gift.
And as breath
catapulted self into gratitude,
my thoughts expanded
to connect to moment,
launch dreams and feel love.
inspired by picture on Solomon's page Thanks
 Jan 2019 Solomon
Edmund black
Life last only
a short time

So few love
Can ever be shared

So few words
Can ever be said

It is not an illusion
my reason why ,
I bleed poetry

To make my life magic
Before I fade away
Let my pain now die
Grant me one wish
I ask of thee
The gift of poetry
To keep me alive!
 Jan 2019 Solomon
alex
french
 Jan 2019 Solomon
alex
and when you said
laughter is like a foreign language
i imagined that i was
teaching you how to
speak it
jcl. you said you don’t laugh much just in general, but i sat with you for two and a half hours and that’s all we did. i’ve missed this. i’ve missed you.
You wore a smile
Genuine and warm
It reflected in your eyes

Jaded now
Somewhat faded
Like your favourite red dress
You bought at first glance
Safely tucked away
An occasional wear

Rise to the occasion
Don’t follow fashion
Laundered and perfumed
Wear it on a crazy day
Accessorise well

The smile you wore
Never out of fashion
Follow your passion
 Jan 2019 Solomon
Alex B
Someone stole my color
And threw it to the wind
Scattered like ashes
I don’t know if I’ll ever find it

Someone stole my color
From the face I know so well
I saw it in the cotton candy clouds
And the teal ocean swell

Someone stole my color
I guess that’s where it went
The world looks so much brighter
Like something heaven-sent

Someone stole my color
And that’s what no one knows
Depression isn’t black
It’s the color of a rose

It’s the light orange in a sunset
And the yellow of a peach
Light blue, my favorite color
So simply out of reach

Purple like my favorite eyeshadow
No, lavender, I’d guess you’d say
And my favorite music artist
Although he has passed away

Someone stole my color
Now everything’s too bright
I suppose sometimes darkness
Isn’t the opposite of light

Someone stole my color
So I’ll wear grey and black
As if in mourning
Until I get it back
 Jan 2019 Solomon
Amanda Francis
Is this what writers do?
Lure their readers to a false sense of security?

You know that I'm in love with you.
So you, with insincerity, play my heart strings like poetry.
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