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Gently cross over the wooden bridge
You have places to go
The bridge has to be there for every passer-by
Dawn to dusk, weathered, not yet to dust
Into the forest deep,
where the rivers rumble and roar
and sing lullabies
Thank you so much 😊 Agnes, bless your heart for all the love kindness and sunshine ☀️  🔆 that you share and happiness that you spread :)
 May 24 Zeno
Eduardo Edmundo
A tree
lifts its burned crown—
screams
from within
its *****.

Light
drools dead
the underground fruit
and the sound
of a new god.
 May 24 Zeno
Leila adel
The narrow uncrowded lanes,  lives in the memory
When life's in 1990s
On the top of the urban lifestyle.
Waking up
Letting sleep leave
Early morning rituals
Watching the sunrise
Surveying the blue sky
Enjoying the coolness
Admiring the beauty outside
Grateful
Anticipating the day
Waiting for coffee or tea
Breakfast
What to have
Checking out the news
Being alive
Savoring the pure joy of it
Heart filled with lightness
 May 24 Zeno
Mark Bell
Met a woman in 1984
We liked to dance
Upon the floor.
There were truths
There was lies
There was happiness
There were cries.
There was love
There was joy
Then in our lives
Came a baby boy.
We played games
And watched him grow
There were highs
There were lows.
Twenty years on a
Wonderful ride
Only to wake
They had committed
Suicide.
A string of summer days strung like pearls of valor
it is hard to be sad when the sun appears like a coin  
dazzling us inside a bright blue sky that we adore.

Decorative fragrant white flowers, lily of the valley
sweetly scented bell shaped beauties that grow
in the meadows, what fragrant Grace we tally !  

Nothing gold can stay or so they say, but whos to say  
that if you string up one happy moment ...
those pearls of valor your clutch to your heart,
may take your breath away, and never go away.

A string of summer days filled with laughter and such joy,  
close your eyes and smell the flowers, sweetly as they coy.
 May 24 Zeno
Crow
Paginae
 May 24 Zeno
Crow
a poet's heart
is a thing of ink

pigmented with equal parts
hubris and anxiety
rage and hope
passion
and tears

narcissists filled with self loathing

composed of shouts inarticulate
and whispers of intricate craft

our thoughts and words rushing
through us
barely legible

defining our days
with explosions of fathomless obscurity
or flashes of visceral clarity

our nights consumed
in communion with paradise
while teasing secrets from the abyss

couplets and quatrains
providing us the space
to live
or to die

running breathless in free verse
we grasp at perpetuity
yet find ourselves doomed
to ephemeron

like the sky
we are rewritten each day

yet as the sky remains the sky
so do we remain
what we are

pages
in a book we can barely read

remaking and trimming

editing ourselves

to fit within the margins
of our paper souls
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