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There was an esoteric land
Unknown from the world
Hidden behind reason
And higher consciousness
A mythical place
Neither on land
Nor, in the sky
Somewhat in-between
The scene and unseen
Only penetrating vision
Could conjure the position
The axis of power
Everything white
The minds and bodies
Pristine and clear
Outside the realm of everyday
So much more was there
Full consciousness
And soul’s originality
Empowered the inhabitants
In the esoteric land
Butterflies
don't exist
when you
talk to me.
Instead, I
feel at ease,
as though I've
known you my entire life. The rest of the
world is silenced to a low buzz, not quite
"you and I", yet we still have our very own                  ittle infinity.
She has spent day after day looking
Searching
For someone to promise to
Never leave
She's been walked out on her whole life
People escaping from her
But when things fall into place
She doesn't know how to
Actually coexist with another
So she leaves
She is the girl who is always left
But she is also
The girl who never stays
What am I doing to myself?
How I feel
As it is understood to myself
I know
I find myself in a moment
That is all mine
No one else at this moment
Feels this
It is only I
No one else is seeing this
From my angle
No one else's heart is beating as mine is
Along with the sound of it
We may all feel a rush
But it is different for all of us
This is mine
I could take centuries to describe it to you
But it would NEVER be right
It will ALWAYS be mine
 Nov 2014 Grace Pickard
wordvango
to the honey-
  (buzz)
here to there
   rose!
dandelion
   humming-
                       swaying
    relaying
pollen.

The Daisy
                 stands
awaiting her visit.
    All
her petals unfolded,
worlds
          sweetest scents,
   the bee
visits.
The further away
The stronger the pull
The lesser the doubt
The wilder the drive
The warmer the heart
The greater the want
The tighter the embrace
The deeper the love
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