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Clinton Arneson Oct 2014
Gentle rain, deflected deftly; their hammock under oak

Memory made, indelible; sweet;
neither of them spoke

Grey sky's pallet, infinite shades;
their gentle touch invoke

a pair of foreheads, gently meet;
new love, within, awoke
Clinton Arneson Oct 2014
Moon hung high,
night wind sigh,
distant cricket sings

windows wide,
curtains fly,
a lilac's scent it brings

her heavy eyes,
her quilt applies,
snugly under wing

find your sleep,
warm and deep,
and morning bell shall ring
Clinton Arneson Oct 2014
Out of the blue ~
delightful and new ~
an artist has graced me her time.

Her study of lovely ~
has made my day sunny ~
and thus inspired this rhyme.

When kindness arrives ~
it brightens up lives ~
I hope that she will understand.

Were I not to accept,
and repay this debt,
Then I would be less of a man.
Clinton Arneson Sep 2014
Mia, Mia ~
Eyes of greena
Always happy,
for to see ya!

Resting on
a blanket blue;
Needs a scratch
or two
from you.

Marshmallow light,
and ashen white;
for your honor,
she shall fight!
Clinton Arneson Sep 2014
What a work of wonder;
I'm struck, as if by thunder;
such loveliness I see ~

These honest eyes, pristine;
Liquid, lightest green;
she has shared with me ~

Exquisite flaxen locks;
They wave and roll in flocks;
Like amber birds toward sea ~

Her nose? Adorable;
The cutest nose I know;
I mean this earnestly ~

Her smile is candy pink;
She’s shy, a bit, I think;
She truly needn't be ~

She I’ll see one day;
Though it may be far away;
We’ll hug and laugh and squee ~

She is my distant friend;
To her, my heart I send;
Her talent, I defend;
Her happiness, I tend;
And hope to see again;
To Kat, this poem I pen ~
Clinton Arneson Sep 2014
Firelight to warm us
winter wind to warn us
and darkness out of doors.


Gently time unfurled us
the snapping birch encouraged us
An owl flew o’er the moors.


Our quiet cabin held us
no single soul beheld us
and distant were the wars.


No sinful sword would find us
nor scrying spell divine us
how loud our rival roars.


For our other’s love does bind us
and life begins inside us
her infant spirit soars.
Clinton Arneson Jul 2014
Bursting,
bounding,
blazing;
boldly blasting, breaking branches, birch
beneath boughs, boots bruising blackberry brambles,
bashing buried boulders,

she shot;
sprinting,
spittle-spitting,
screaming,
singing,
sundering scarlet sumac screens,
seeking secret solitude,
scrying,
simple,
silent safety,
solace.
Yet another challenge from a friend
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