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 Oct 2016
The Dedpoet
The fawn walks at birth
Finding balance quickly.
If you study the baby deer
You will see that it can sprint
Like an Olympian.

And you asked me:
Why didn't I walk quickly
Or run like an Olympian?

Oh baby, you did.
But not in a in an event,
Rather in my hope for you
Chasing clear dreams
In magic hours,
Your spirit soaring as you
Find true love,
And it is my heart
That was racing.....racing....
The night is still - frozen,
Goodbyes are forced, not chosen.

By Lady R.F ©2016
 Oct 2016
Stephan


Here in this place where I once played,
midst memories now cast aside
The clouds my worthless life has made,
rain down in teardrops I have cried
Thank you to all of my friends here who have supported and encouraged me. I appreciate each and every one of you.  I hope I have shown you the same kindness you have always shown me. This will be my last for while, I need some time to figure out who I am and how I became that person. Thanks again.
I ask the question...
Is hope stronger than fear?
I hold hope, but fear strikes,
then it takes over!

By Lady R.F ©2016
 Oct 2016
Broken
Maybe I don't need a hundred liars to tell me how tomorrow will be brighter. Maybe I need one person who cares enough to sit with me in the darkness today.
 Oct 2016
Styles
Her
She lives somewhere within me;
      deeper than love,
      stronger than pain,
      She is me.
      Spirits intwhine,
      body and soul,
      on my mind.
      Us; we will be.
 Oct 2016
Pagan Paul
.
So you snuggle in to your bed
as you hear mid-winter calling.
The cold north wind is blowing
as the last of Autumns leaves are falling.
Did you ever stop to think
as you pull up your blankets tight?
That out in the doorways of the city
desperate figures shiver in the night.
Crowding around the soup van
blue hands grasping for the heat.
Hallowed eyes and frightened expressions
as the rain turns to stinging sleet.
The concrete pavements are hard and cold
the bridges provide scant protection.
The hot food and volunteers words
stir memories into recollection.
Once they were people of society
with homes and jobs and cars and love.
Now they fight behind the charity shops
for clothes and coats and hats and gloves.
So as you snuggle deep in your bed
and your fire starts to burn low.
Remember the people of the streets
as the sleet begins to turn to snow.

Pagan Paul (Dec 2008) ©2016
This was the first poem I ever wrote.
Its from personal experience of being homeless for 3 months over winter 2008/2009.
PPx
 Oct 2016
PrttyBrd
Fearless dreaming has brought me here
The warmth of spent flesh
asleep in the tides of a fickle moon
a cool breeze in a windowless room
I pull back the sheet slowly
and watch as tiny bumps form in the chill

Peaches and cream perfection
Dare I touch
Dare I risk awakening
The warmth reaches me before I reach the truth
Hesitation and a slow exhale

I have dreamed this dream before
The dream where there is no time, no rules, no distance
I have dreamed of joy and love
I have dreamed this very dream
and as I touch you... I cry

In those moments lost in the union
of love and passion
right and wrong are a blur
on the edges of souls bound in time
Until...
I touch you and
for a moment
you are my truth, my reality, my dream, my life
Gone in the gasp of a waking sun

Dare I risk losing you once more
My heart breaks anew as the new day dawns
But how do I yearn and not sate
Yes, I touch
I love so that I may live in that moment a lifetime

The warmth of your skin greets mine
as you turn to me in your slumber
embracing all I could hope to be
Your comfort with me melts doubt
And I pray that the sun never shines
I pray that this moment is my ever after
That you and I are where we once were
where we should always be

I open my eyes at daybreak
and still feel the warmth of you
I bask before the tears come
I love you more with each moment of perfect slumber
I dream
That you will keep me with you
so I shall ne'er again wake
to a world where you no longer reside
102216
 Oct 2016
Joe Cole
For all our younger poets*

I am a sower of seeds
Hello Poetry is the soil that nurtures the seeds
You are the tender young plants reaching for the sky
Soon to blossom in your full glory
She wrote me
and my memory
cannot write her off.
Ma ; 23 years and still counting
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