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Pagan Paul Jul 2023
Deep is the heart of the Forest
a sound stirs sending shivers of sorrow
through the undergrowth
to where wonderful willows wildly weep.

Deep is the voice of the Forest
its core carefully calling clipped chords
through the luscious canopy
to aptly announce an autumn abundance.

Deep is the love of the Forest
in light lancing little lazy legacy lines
through the fresh downpour
to relish rain rapidly replenishing roots.


© Pagan Paul
Pagan Paul Jul 2023
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S – Sit down with me
N – Nibble my neck
U – Undo my top button
G – Gently massage my chest
G – Glance at me longingly
L – Let your inhibitions go
E – Enjoy the moment.


© Pagan Paul (04/12/18)
.
An old poem revisited :)
Pagan Paul Jul 2023
Phonics in a symphony
assembles into an unreality,
swirling into trance worlds
and opens the minds door.
Tic Toc bass intrudes at whim
and images fragment out,
mimicking psychedelia in the stars
as heavens trip the music flies.
Fading slow in audible waves
through a keyhole in time,
the insistence of journey's end
adopts the guise of deity.
And your neck is the dawn... 
And your neck is the dawn...
I will put your clothes on you;
  The call to prayer is raised;
I've woven the new adhan for you...
Like all your stories
And your shoes, my son...
All the buzz of branches and grape leaves are in your eyes...
And I will kiss...
All the white buds of sambac jasmine...
All the red buds of sambac jasmine...
From your heart...
your legs,
your arms,
Become golden...
The bud of the claw of your larynx turns green...
And your neck is
The tall white palm...
Your neck is the long rainbow...
For the butterfly to come through the walls...
For the coming of my flesh into your voice...
و گردن ات صُبح است...
و گردن ات صُبح است...
پیراهن ات را تن ات مي کنم
صدای اذان بلند مي شود...
اذاني نو برای تو بافته ام
مثلِ تمامِ قصه هایت
و کَفش هایت پسرِ من...
همهمه ی شاخه ها و برگ های انگور
در چشم هایت...
مي بوسَم...
غنچه های سفید رازقي را
غنچه های سُرخ رازقي را
از روی قَلب ات...
ساقِ پاهایت
بازو دست هایت
طلایي می شوند...
جوانه های پنجه يِ حنجره ات
سبز مي شود...
و گردن ات
نخل هایِ سفیدِ مریمي بلند...
رنگین کمان هایي بلند...
برای آمدن پروانه از میان دیوارها
برای آمدن جسمِ من در صدآءِ تو
Pagan Paul Jul 2023
Take my hand and let us go so lightly,
walking 'pon the lake of lovers dreams,
gentle ripples interlace our smiles brightly,
lighting the stars within romantic streams.
Making love as we sink beneath cool water,
drowning lustful in passions liquid embrace.
The dream shimmers, as the images falter
and the still lake reflects your delicate face.
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