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This—is the land—the Sunset washes—
These—are the Banks of the Yellow Sea—
Where it rose—or whither it rushes—
These—are the Western Mystery!

Night after Night
Her purple traffic
Strews the landing with Opal Bales—
Merchantmen—poise upon Horizons—
Dip—and vanish like Orioles!
Sometimes life never seems to follow a plan,
At the times you least expect it someone new comes in.
You thought you had it mapped, had figured it out,
Then this someone new starts to pull your attention something more,
And all you can do is scrap those old plans and throw them out,
Beginning again, one step at a time, one foot then the other down on the floor.
Time to readjust and replan just how things should go,
To see how life goes and see if she means anything,
To see if shes meant to be, if its meant to be more.
Lets roll with this just one step at a time,
And find out what you really mean to me.
poems come

at all hours

blooming as flowers

drinking up

— The End —