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Noting how the birds believe in courtship
on grass
in trees
with song
in sky
They seek each other--
hoping
dancing
singing
Starting nests to please and
bringing food and
silly trinkets
Cooing
muttering
flappings
Taking so much time

He with color and display a-strutting
She,
founders
tentative in disbelief
around the edges of his glory
mesmerized

All
a tender sloping
toward desire
Spring 4-13-18
Renewed shades of green
Blackbirds rejoicing among the -
wavering trees
Songs of springtide revival
Performers freed of winters bridle
April wind chimes that tingle to -
and fro
Wild Turkey's that forage the -
pecan row
Churning brooks with thoughts -
of the ocean
The 'fairyfly' dancers in evening devotion ...

-
Copyright April 10 , 2018 by Randolph L Wilson * All Rights Reserved
The magic of the moment, appeals to the heart
The essence of self-expression, portrays in fine art
Denounced of all logic, abstract with precision
Her image appears to lack her heart's intuition
Taunted like bees shaken in a jar
The artist offends her emotional scars
A nerve twitches the soul, excites the old
A mind so wise yet feebly slow
Love as a game extinguishes the flame
A pretty girl in my picture, I’ve forgotten her name
The ways of creativity feeds a fire
Her innocence is lost in my desire
Beauty and passion, a lust to stay young
The heart beats of wonder, before the guilt comes
The wink of an angel, the cast of a spell
The adolescent fear of kiss and tell
Broken like glass, then falls to the ground
A tender young heart lost and never found
And so the artist hides behind his creation
Only to expose such vague insinuations
Traveler Tim
There was a bird that grew up caged
It didn't know it should be enraged
It had seen other birds fly
Thought to it's self "they are going to die"
For from what it had lived and witnessed
It thought they must have a sickness
To make them fly
Way up there in the sky
In it's cage it was quite content
Never knowing what for, it's wings where ment
So it thought the other birds where more than bent

Are you like that little bird
Thinking that flying is quiet absurd
Are you locked in a cage of your own design
Content to live your life so confined
Take a closer look and open up your mind

© Pauline Russell
I dreamed I
Saw fields of straw
Hallucinated the waves
Coming to me

I begged on
That little
Self inside me
To prove

His realness
And he said
I just am
And I

Answered
But the field was
Real to me all
Waving

Standing
Applauding
A festivity
Of me

And you are who
A homonculus
A being
Inside me
Have you

I questioned him
Myself me
My being
Mine ID

Have you
Little my
Senses of self
Monitor

My matriarchal
Patrician
Overseer
Have you

One too?
A little you
Inside you talk
To question

Go to in stress
For advice
And if so
Does he too?

On and and and and

Ononon
We went
Late


Into the night into day
I went

Back
To
The
Field
I sing

As I breathe
As it is meant to be
Songs special meaningful
To me
My tune a prayer
The touch of god in
A euthenistic travail
Up a hill
To no avail
Rounding corners off
Touching head on bark
Banging wisdom with dead ends
And sanity in dark
Yet I

Sing

Always have this tune
In the back of my mind
Calling
I sing
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