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our love,
song of
winter seas and
love breathed in,

golds of love in
our hair,

running to the sea
where summer
waits for us,

sunshine on
our insides,
lips
of honey
meeting
soft as
the flowing
breeze,

love, so beautiful
and pure,
we don't want
to let go,

as we fall
like incredible
summer
stars,
like incredible
gold seas.
tonight, breeze
of rose,

tide, sweet
river brightened,
falling into the dark,

our love, the
breeze's ghost,
running from
the sun that
slipped away,

leaves in
flight on the
trees, tireless
and wordless,
murmuring
of summer
dreams and
crazy love,

high tide,
the sea's breath
lowering
the sky,
silver cloud
and moon-onyx,

our love,
tonight,
where the night is....

where the night is
a sweetened breeze,

where the night is
the dark, daring
us to go on,

to wait forever....
for the silvery
whispers of the
night to
sigh
for love.
blossoms of ink,

the sighs of
spring's new
leaves looped
around the
sky,

the land filling
with the gold
arch of the sun,
white flowers
on the branches,
the ground
strewn with ivy
and green moss,

mute sun rests
in the sky,
the light pretty
joys painted in
the mind, pale
whispers of
shiny white,

gorgeous sea,
sings to
the soft flowers,
the waves start
to blossom,
blossom like
the boyish wind,

or drive on forever
like singing
rain.
been reading some sandburg today absolutely love his poetry
lily of passion,
bloom of the
dreaming pond,

blue lights,
dark golds,
in ponds of velvet
green the fire
of hidden deeps,

summer's light
wrapping the opal-like
water into flame,

blossom of cool rose,

tide of dream,
monet-sweet
flower of the water,

love, with its
magical spell
of summer.
 Apr 2017 Brother Jimmy
kaelin
the veins in your arms like
road maps to your heart,
i trace them with my eyes
from afar.
youve got an aura that people write songs about,
the way you shine and
the way i fade and fizzle out.
im the last thing youd remember
but youre the last thing id forget,
the way your eyes wander
and mine are dead-set.
I weep for the beat of my heart
Now so foreign and unfamiliar to me
Bird in my ribcage ripping her wings
In the desperate bids to free herself
And flee from the bulbous rotting shadows
That share in her lightless prison
All my blood replaced with oil
And the small bird shrieks as she chokes
Guttural and laboured
But still
No freedom
No release
Only the screams of a dying bird,
The mournful cries of her captor
And the laughter of the shadows
Eating at them both
Fever dreamer
restless sleeper
I am a burning star
screaming preacher
lonely schemer
The world is mine
and I devour
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