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With skin the color of coffee what I wouldn't give to have a cup of her
Putting my lips to hers taking long slow sips warming my insides
Her fragrance is like freshly brewed aromatherapy healing my soul.
Written by Keith Edward Baucum
Love poem.
dreams billowing
like breezes on a sail
flowing rivers
blue flowers
mysteries of the moon.
grey mists over the sea
desolate skies
dreams of the skies.
  Sep 2015 TiReSooOmEe3
Solaces
I had long thought of it.  The last night here on Earth.  Tonight is the night that the comet is suppose to hit the Pacific ocean.  There had been ads running all over tv, the internet, radio, and on the streets.  The slogan was simple.  " How are you going to spend your last night alive."   On the other side of the Planet the slogan was opposite.     " How are you going to spend your last day alive."  

I decide to spend it with you.  I set up a mattress outside in my backyard and we lay in it and count the stars.  We talk and we talk about the dreams we had last night. We cry together, we laugh together.  We then fall asleep.  This is how I wanted it to be.  Swift and fast while we slept and held each other.  I dreamt of seeing the next morning and waking up with her.  We look to the clear blue sky and smile.  But am I dreaming?  Is this real. Did the world end.  I cannot seem to wake up.
Was it a dream
  Sep 2015 TiReSooOmEe3
Jaz
I guess it's nice to know
That you were watching all along.
But it's also kinda sad to know
You did nothing at all.
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