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 Jun 2015
Eriko
array of sun ray's demeanor
golden liquid entails the spur
partaking in parts of cerulean glimmer
the water trickles south of exalted runners

runners in berserk, runners as dreamers
those who wade through froths of character
concluding perchance to dig deep and climb
resonate mantras whose song have declined

no strings attached but to one's universe
solitary stars daring to dream in rhyme
concurring melodies in worlds not blind
so that their words may wield whatever in divine
 Jun 2015
brandon nagley
She sculpted me
To the shape of her soul
She created me out of mine lonesomeness
Of stories far and old!!!!
 Jun 2015
martin challis
For Allen*

Listen

Listen  oh heart
                           to the mystery, to
the breeze dancing trees, to the
silent ripples that cross the quiet lake

go within where they go, oh heart
go to the shore where wisdom awaits you
tread the circumference
honouring
                  honouring each discovered treasure
when you find them you will know and embrace them oh heart

they will feed you
they will be simple

MChallis @ 2015
 Jun 2015
Day Wing
Written not only by the ink of pens, but also by the soul of  hearts
 Jun 2015
Amanda In Scarlet
Missing you is an ache inside
A bruise that needs to be soothed.
I kissed you, and can never now erase
The imprint of your lips upon mine,
The playful nipping of your teeth.
My hands tightened around your neck
And yours, trembling, entangled in my hair.
Happily devoured, wholly consumed,
It is my turn to hunger
For your tender, loving touch.
Sweet, sweet, your breath upon my cheek,
Your hand in mine, subtle heat conveyed from palm to palm
And the fiercer burning at the heart,
A branding, a burning; I am yours.
You pulled me to your chest.  
And I wept, I wept as you left
Made sure you didn’t see
What you felt, and shared
As you wept too, despair at leaving me.
over death we ponder too much
or none at all
but not upon the landmark most difficult to touch

living life well.

am i living my life well?

no, money can't help achieve
nor a good career of success

you know it too well not to believe
they do any better than robbing happiness.

then is it a nice wife and a loving family
kids to hug, comfort you generously?

no, not really, they still aren't enough to ensure
fullness of life as may only briefly endure.

then what is it that makes life lived well

a good sleep to tide the night
a roof over to dwell?

doing just what you like or minding the other's wish
let your desires run wild or hold them under leash?

to me it's a mystery getting answer to which I fail
the parameters of a life, having lived thoroughly well.

but over time I've realized, deep in, its echoes ring,

living life well has a lot to do
with being contented with smallest thing.
Planet shines lit by the nearest Star
Dry, hot ember glows in the dark
While candle wax is like water

. . . and they all burn for. .        

  (  T h e  F i r e  W i t h i n  )
Imagined by
Impeccable Space
Poetic beauty
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Nf_x14bs3do
 Jun 2015
Amitav Radiance
Follow the footsteps
That invites you to
A different path
Which leads
To the abode
Where love dwells
Doors ajar
To welcome
The traveler’s soul
Hands hold
Your treasured belief
All encompassing
There is warmth
To soothe the soul
Not weary anymore
After a night’s slumber
It will be a new awakening
 Jun 2015
Sjr1000
White boulders
laying side by side
on the Mad River
incline
at low tide.

Boulders breathing
sliding heaving into
the waters currents,
Inquisitive
black eyed faces
with
perpetual smiles,
Maybe they're just built
that way.

Babies crying their mother's name,
But only the River
hears their call
until mothers
as they usually do
return
to nourish their off spring too.

One day not far away
these babies cries
go quiet.

Sand banks fall into the river
the only sound
as the tide
starts flowing back on in.

The ocean one way,
The river the other,
Converging at the mouth,
the two mingle
singing to each other,
Ocean waves
River currents
as the tide changes
from in to out
somehow just like life itself.

One day not to far away
boulders slide
moving into the water
without a mommy cry,
The Mad River
by their side
or
immersed
in the comings and goings
of the tides
sleeping
white boulders
side by side,
Barking from time to time.
The photo on my home page, the mouth, too bad it's not in color.
we talked of chickens, the coops, the wire,

he

brought me a specimen of lime mortar, held

with horse hair from the old wall.             we

placed it, discussed lime,             the burning,

and carried on.

made a pointy thing,                  will burn our

irons in the fire.

day of industry, company,                 winds

bent the rest of us, so we

followed the road to find

hedd wynn.

the light is coming through.

sbm.
 Jun 2015
Richard Riddle
The moon hangs full, above our eyes-
a glow of gold upon it's plate
calm and serene, the Wiccans rise
to cast their spells of love, not hate.

copyright: richard riddle-June 03, 2015
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