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Our hearts may grow old
But won't ever be dulled by
The passage of time
Happy Thanksgiving from Canada to all Hello Poetry members! :)
 Oct 2016 b for short
Andy Hunter
Swallows, House Martins,
making nests under the eaves;
you glance, too busy.

Alone on a bench,
things in mind, as yet - unsaid;
weeds find cracks to grow.

Flowers, by the path;
blue - so overgrown. Today
we go no further.

Dried stalks of grass stand
in an old ink jar, writing
yesterday's words.
 Oct 2016 b for short
Andy Hunter
you were tig

I was tag

bright pink wellies

a duffel bag

the snowball

that I threw

I wonder if

you ever knew

It

was always

you
 Oct 2016 b for short
Andy Hunter
6 happy songs

1. Oui hear
What we appear
What, we appear?
What
Where

Capturing the in
The expressable in it
Capped in it
In
Into

Together to gather
To Get Her - To Gat Her
Two Gets-together
Gether
Glather

Troubling isn't it
Very troubling
Trouble some
Some troubles in ning
Inklings
Inner rings

Der Rinks
Der

2. Vert
Over therr
Overt therr
Knew a woman who was livin
Oh Vert Herr!

Oh Vert Herr!
Over therr
Err a woman who is livin
Oh Vert therr!
Err
Err

3. Bleu
A cloud farmer
I eye the sky
Eye the sky
Eye the sky
A cloud farmer
I eye the skye
Eye the sky
Wide

4. Blanc
Here is the blank
The blanking blank
The blanking blank
The blanking blank
Here is the blank
The blanking blank
The blanking blanking blank
Blank


5. Rouge
They come to me in ones and twos
Ones and twos
Ones and twos
They come to me in
Ones and twos
Ones and twos it's
True


6. Noir
Brush away noir noir
Brush away noir
Brush away noir noir
Noir noir no
More No more
Noir noir no
Moe
 Oct 2016 b for short
The Nada
It started with a one-liner,
Now here I am can’t get over,
Not because I want it
But because I can not.

It is a sure silent affection
For, maybe afraid of rejection.

But you can’t blame
A prosaic girl that will never your like.
Tried to halt many times
Yet your charisma surefire.
The Nada
Silence says much more
Than useless words we have said
Many times before
 Oct 2016 b for short
Peninsula
When we've turned to past
And all our memories turn
To vicious whirlwinds
: Untouchable
Aftermaths of aftermaths of flames,
Of which we were the arsonists--
Even with our senses impaired--
I'll still come back to you.
.
Watching DC and ****
Trickery by crown of aces
A contest of befriending faces
Noble curiosity stolen by sweeping shadows
Disguised in safe places
--
She stepped upon the pulse of the streets
And slipped between the drunken sheets
Hoping to find that familiar scent
Of ****** sweating in perfumed heat

© Matthew Goff
 Oct 2016 b for short
BarelyABard
I drink too much and love too fast.
This life of mine's not meant to last.
The world I seem to occupy
will never see me eye to eye
when rules which bound our fragile lives,
leave us fractured,
in disguise.
But if I went a different path,
and found some peace in all my wrath,
could I escape into a realm
where'd I'd be captain at the helm?
Rid my soul of all the fear,
that there is only order here.

Do not follow what they say
and don't just live from day to day
Fight away the nine to five
and find what makes you feel alive.
Be strange.
Be weird.
Go search for you.
Climb the peaks and sail the blue.
The high you'll feel is not unreal
just emptiness you wish to heal.
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