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Quote: Lost in the velvet of your heart I am
none else but, your Valentine !

Finding my way back to the days when you and I were  young
I flip back the pages of our youth and smile  
Two wide eyes juveniles meeting at the altar of love
ready to meet each other soul to soul ...
Enraptured in this moment of sweet remembrance
I recall the young man I once married.  
How he always stayed by my side and never tarried
when it came to loving me,
he was always, right on time..
"Kese banu me woh jo me hu
Koi esa jis se me bhi mukhtalif ** saku,
Yeh bhi to meri hi khamoshi h
Jo mujhse mujhi tak ka fasla janti h..
Yeh bebasi bhi lazmi h
Jo utni hi haqeeqat h
Jitni is safar me meri talash"
Behind the curtain

of his music he dances:


the master flautist.
From Orpheus's lyre to the flutes of the *****

Composition for ***** (or harpsichord), SwWV 319, on the theme of "Ballo del granduca" ("The Grand Duke's Ball", 1590, Jan P. Sweelinck), performed on January 27th, 2024 by recorder ensemble The Royal Wind Music in the Organpark (arrangement Hester Groenleer)

Collection "org anp ark" #347
The sky is
A graveyard of stars

And I remark
Something so tragically beautiful

Just like fireworks of art
From here to the nearest star

And I wish
I could lay awake
In the night

With you
And our lingering hearts

And tell you all about a tragedy
Called life
Questions
Situations
They change along with the answers
Just as memories and seasons do
You must capture them
Enjoy them to the utmost
In an instant or New York minute
There are reasons beyond your control which cause delays,disruptions,cancellations,and in many cases unfortunately heartbreak
Seasons

C@rainbowchaser2024
#c
The sky— filled with separate suns—
Became the name of God.
The ground— on trembling scales— unfolding—
Raised our arms unconsciously!
bamboo butterflies drifting
across the Sea of Cortez
with windmill drifting
through fresh eyes
while chanting from
the Book of Songs
underneath the
soprano blue sky
it's best to

know a country

boy.

between clicks.

before cities spur.
I just have to look
at you
to feel it.

To know it
I have to look
away.

Like the pages
of a book
mid-tornado,

Fragments of
information, the pieces
all out of place.

Still,

I believe you
beg to be
read.
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