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 Dec 2010 Ayeshah
William Blake
Never seek to tell thy love,
Love that never told can be;
For the gentle wind doth move
Silently, invisibly.

I told my love, I told my love,
I told her all my heart,
Trembling, cold, in ghastly fears.
Ah! she did depart!

Soon after she was gone from me,
A traveller came by,
Silently, invisibly:
He took her with a sigh.
 Dec 2010 Ayeshah
Emily Dickinson
479

She dealt her pretty words like Blades—
How glittering they shone—
And every One unbared a Nerve
Or wantoned with a Bone—

She never deemed—she hurt—
That—is not Steel’s Affair—
A ****** grimace in the Flesh—
How ill the Creatures bear—

To Ache is human—not polite—
The Film upon the eye
Mortality’s old Custom—
Just locking up—to Die.
If it is not the flame of Time’s passion stirring
By what other name can it be called
When roses suddenly bring
Winter’s coldest days
To thaw

Sad eyes give but half a kiss imprisoned
In a cold embraceless Spring
No flowers in the sun
Do Winter roses
Bring

Does Old Nature smile while sweetly singing
With no need to look with any doubt
At the roses Summer’s bringing
Knowing
They are devout
Copyright *Neva Flores @2010
www.changefulstorm.blogspot.com
www.stumbleupon.com/stumbler/Changefulstorm
Feed the ink of my soul so that I alone might sing
Verses full of scattered rhymes for you
Let me taste your silent shadows
In all my offerings
Feed my soul, my love
Please do

My lips are soft as rain and whisper words of dew
When you feed the ink of my soul
Everything I feel, I will share with you
In verses of scattered rhymes
Feed my soul, my love
Please do

These pages of my heart, listen for your eyes
Hunger for the taste of your smile
Everything I feel, you feel in my sighs
Poured out in this scattering of rhymes
Come feed my soul, my love
My well’s run dry
Copyright *Neva Flores @2010
www.changefulstorm.blogspot.com
www.stumbleupon.com/stumbler/Changefulstorm
 Nov 2010 Ayeshah
Cartwright
Roses Soaked in blood Like painful lust
of Love,
Regret the painful bounties of Fued.
I shouldn't have lost that picture of our happiness as
I mistreated the deeds from
good to bad;
Bad to worse.
Regret is what I feel.
Like a phantom I Lust for you to have me again.
With disappointment as my knife
I have done surgery to sculpt the perfect storm,
as the son says
"It can't rain all the time"
As I grasp to hold on tight
with all my being
to end this painful anguish
so the sun shall shine again.
With wings of Gold once had.
Black Tar,
Anger,
Rage
is now within your head.
As I come around to begging,
Pleading to make it right.
I ask this pain of Regret to Reform,
to be Consumed by truth in our hearts completion.
Christopher Nathaniel Cartwright
Copyright © 1983-Present
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