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Chitter , chatter chirrup
Three birds of a feather
A friendly chummy posy -
in perfect morning tide pleasure
Trilling , thrilling , touring Thrush's in the noon palmettos
Chiming sweet refrains in the -
broomcorn meadow
Musky , dusky weary
Gold songsters in a bush
A huckleberry trio in the-
nighttime hush
Copyright April 5 , 2016 by Randolph L Wilson * All Rights Reserved
We walk not of this world way, but by Faith.
For each of us has been promise different things.
Yet we still walk by the same Faith as the other.
We each are on a different path with him as well.
Some Faith may stronger today, but not tomorrow.
For Faith is by hearing, then believing it is true.
We all have the very same objective here in life.
It is to finish this race=Journey that we are on.
Thus then being told by our Savior well done.
hardly a day goes by
without the news
of yet more suicide attacks
that **** mothers and children
     innocently playing in parks
     listening to their favorite songs
friends chatting over tea and coffee
expectant travelers on their way
     to business  family  or lovers

the perpetrators of such deeds
must be a very lonely crowd
with eyes as empty as their hearts
and frozen souls that harbor the illusion
       that cowards will turn heroes
       that killing innocents is brave
       that the world will recognize their great importance
            when they bring ****** ends to happy lives

it will not come to pass

no peace
     in this   or any other world
can find its way to them
who ****** in cold blood
Your eyes
Make me smile,
Your lips
Want me, I know,
Your hair
Is for being lost,
Your height
Is for me to faint,
Your breath
Is air of true life,
Your arms
Hold me so tight,
Your legs
Are shock, arresting,
Your cheek
Is for giddy kissing,
Your words
Go trancing, unheard,
Your fingers
Are for *******.

Thank you m'lord,
For sensate love,
Thank you m'lord,
For shivering flesh,
Thank you m'lord,
For what grows in me,
I am your mistress.
last night I nearly lived,
in dream so make believe,
such a turn of sunshine

and hope was always true,
could cast away my sorrow,
beyond the dream horizons,

i saw painted, dim lit boats,
shrinking blue into oceans,
skipping in longest tides,

only wings can take me
there, to the outter shores,
beyond the dream horizons,

i cannot fly, I then thought,
as the lone seabird sails,
as such an angelic thing,

but see the sky is an arc,
any wing can show you,
just lend an limb or eye,

across the sun waves,
are new lands to make,
before any moon rises,

the sky is clearly woven,
skerries and the frosted
banks are steeply melting,

a lone grey gull cries over,
seabird in soul ceremony,
solemn with climbing sun,

i cannot fly, I then thought,
as the lone seabird sails,
as such an angelic thing,

merely I am human now,
awake from dream horizons,
dead alive without wings.
Eye in the sky is my mood
And I slip lazing into blue,
The darkest true of your
Eyes, who cast me away,
So unmerciful, in the tides,
Sometimes the moon locks,
Is master of mine and aye,
Of she am I made.  

Tonight, as you held me,
So white was my spirit,
Luminous as Lazarus' grave,
As the holey silence, some
Wraith of looks in the sky,
Sometimes the moon shows,
Wears my face and I hers,
Of she am I made?

The night is brisk and raw,
So heated am I next to you,
Ghostly sad and beaming
With joy at the indigo sheet
Of floating stars on the sea,
You hold my heart like faith,
Nebulous as moon in ocean,
Of these I am made.
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