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 Dec 2017 Carel Prinsloo
Poetic T
Though the glimmer of
           evanesce shines aloft..
lighting the wayward
                      wonderers path...

Always remember that below
             every shining moment
that there is always be a shadow
                         under every candle.
.
.      .
     .   .         .  .      .     
.   .     .        .
Snow kisses the sleepy mountains,
draping them with sheets of white.
Flakes drift down into the vales,
jewels sparkling in the full moon light.
A simple crystallised drop of water
delightfully whirls on a gentle breeze,
alighting softer than an eyelash kiss,
to find a home upon the trees.



© Pagan Paul (04/12/17)
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 Dec 2017 Carel Prinsloo
Poetic T
We each have found
                     that hole,
that keeps us under our own
           perspective of life.

Till that one who grabs
            that handle,
and digs for you.
    digging deeper, wider.


On the precipice of falling
into this void of there making,
              they stare deeply.
Looking at him asking.  
                                
          "Why,

"What is a hole, if its sides
                         are not vertical.


Looking perplexed at the words
                of this stranger...

"Not every hole has to be yours,
            "But when we work together,
"We create the steps to walk upon.

"You have to dig deep to find the way out,

Were all have our own holes,
               sometimes burying us deep.
But when a voice of another speaks of
                                         there moments,
and how they fell deeper.
It only takes those steps of thought
               to eventually realize
that not ever hole buries us.

But we can eventually step out.
 Nov 2017 Carel Prinsloo
Poetic T
The weeds must be
                         purged,
for they smother the
                        potential
to let  flowers grow.

For without it,
        the earth suffocates,
And eventually even flowers
              will lose their petals.
 Nov 2017 Carel Prinsloo
Nylee
If I have a choice to be happy
 at every chance I get
                        why do I always pick to be sad?
.
I saw thee dancing betwixt the trees,
wearing the greenest of velvet dresses,
hair bouncing in a flow of wild wind,
cascading down in tight curled tresses.
Joyously giggling at Natures comfort,
her love surrounding thee in a cloak,
'Tis then thy truest feminine snares
caught the heart of this mighty Oak.



© Pagan Paul (25/11/17)
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Lord of Green series, poem 14
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 Nov 2017 Carel Prinsloo
Poetic T
When the vicious breath of light
           devours the twilight
its screams into the eroding
                       collapse of its beauty.

The luminosity never shows you,
            never sinks you into it breath..
we only gaze at its refection's.

But when the candle fades and the
             wax becomes grim,
      then the pillow once again suffocates.

Within the place of onyx moments,
             beauty envelopes everything.
And above what was veiled shimmers
       beyond our comprehension and we gaze...
 Nov 2017 Carel Prinsloo
Poetic T
Look at your hands,
          now touch your face..

Is this us, our impressions
       collected by our grasp..

Now walk bare foot in the
           garden, street..

Are these our footsteps naked under us?
                            Or repetitions of before,
that feeling that were breadcrumbs on a path.

Were not sure of ourselves
                                             we use our senses
     collectively to exist in our surroundings..

But if we had none would we be alive at all??
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