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 Aug 2018
MicMag
You
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overflowing generosity
infinitely deep

Counting on You (7 of 10)
a countdown series - poems of decreasing length, each using You as the first and last word
 Jun 2017
Sjr1000
Every inane, ignorant, stupid, barbaric, primitive conversation you're hearing at the check out line you're counting on your fingers to see if it adds up to 10 and figuring you can always make you're you are when it adds up to 9.
Thanks Harriet for the inspiration
 Jun 2017
Larry Potter
The comfiest human bed warmer I ever had,
My fundamental tutor of the good and the bad,
The original storyteller in my bedtime tantrums,
The resident photographer of my birthday albums.

The accidental magician who tricked me out of my worries,
A sympathetic dictator who scolds but allows my fancies,
My biased talent manager who always tells me I'm the best,
The loudest cheerleader who puts to shame all the rest.

The world's underrated chef cooking heavenly meals,
Our unpaid laundry lady worrying over water bills,
The overqualified nurse never leaving her patient,
Our top-notch budget analyst negotiating every payment.

The random gardener, she can grow anything with ease,
Our talkative historian, she stops recalling only if we say please,
The uncanny philosopher, we've learned a lot from her,
The lost and found administrator, tracking things hidden anywhere.

The most efficient multitasker I've ever known,
My trustworthy adviser who knows me down to my bones,
A tough fighter who keeps winning her every battle,
My life's co-creator and this world's greatest mother.
Happy Mother's Day!
 Feb 2017
Walter W Hoelbling
There once was a lady in waiting
Who still enjoyed all the male baiting
When one was too daring
She slapped him with a herring
and chided him for not abating
 Aug 2016
traces of being
We danced to the river’s song every summer’s moonlight
          drawn together by impassioned currents stir
Lovers swimming in dulcet waters cleansing flow
          washing the sweltering day’s memories away
          to paint on the moment, beneath a sky full of  stars

Cinnamon summer hues glistening colour
          moonbeams ricochet off goose-bumped flesh
Trembling warmth rippling through shivering passion
          arousing all our secret places,
          pulsing wildly, with a feral potion
          racing through our veins
Tasting summer love’s awakening appetite
          blissfully sharing what was ours forevermore to keep

Twilight colored your eyes
          with the songs we never knew
Crickets chirrup to a cadence
          only raging hearts beat to
          sating a restless ache, sweet nights of summer bliss
Quenching a budding common thirst,
          whispering in blissful harmony
          only revealed in the cattails' purr along river's edge,
          swaying with a rhythmic summer breeze

We went down to the river every summer night,
          making  love with stardust in our eyes;
          set free like shooting stars,
          setting fire to the heat of the night

                                                 *wild is the wind
an ode to untold secret places
and silent reveries written out loud,
and,
dreaming of hopeful sweet days
of  the impending summer bloom
 Aug 2016
Stephan


Even in this darkness, her darkness,
when a moonless sky
preaches fear from a pulpit of shadows
pointing elongated fingers

and walls crumble
into a rubble strewn alleyway
with graffiti issues, spray painted threats
on frantic facades dripping

As common sense
hides in sealed envelopes
addressed but not delivered
to neighborhoods in need

while self professed wanderers
linger on sidewalks of
washed out hopscotch scenes
by a raincloud that never seems to stop  

Her beauty shines
in effervescent streams
illuminating a photograph, poetry
and a kind word from quivering lips

caressing my eyes
in watercolor enchantments
and pastel pleasures,
showing me it is not what, but who

For this darkness is hers,
weighted thoughts on soft shoulders
binding wrists in tethered worries,
draining dreams from casted wishes

as regrets rip at the fabric,
folding seams in crooked stitches,
her heart beats to outrun the pain
and still she finds time to smile,  for me
 Aug 2016
r
I said I love you in the field of honor
and she was like a colt, her name
like the moon caught in my throat,
she was water I held in my hands
like the canoe I worked through the river,
and she was a flash at two-thirty
in the morning of the suicidal knife,
and she was a fire of pine cones,
a butterfly that lit on the float of my pole,
and she was like the night herself.
 Aug 2016
Stephan
.

I read a poem today,
the most beautiful I had ever seen

It spoke of passion and devotion,
tenderness and yearning

Moments spent walking in the rain,
sunny days and picnics for two
Quiet nights by a fire
and Sunday mornings sleeping in

Candlelit dinners, soft music
and making love until dawn

I read a poem today,
the poem was us
 May 2016
Wordfreak
You dared to bare your soul,
Expecting me to turn tail and run,
To grimace and turn away.
But instead I comforted you.
I assured you, we all have scars,
You have nothing to be ashamed of.
I will stay if you let me,
I'll be your sword,
Your shield,
And maybe...
Your home.
#You
 May 2016
Lucrezia M N
50 followers today! Thank you all for spending some of your time reading my writes, for liking, sharing them and leaving comments! so important to me... This is a wonderful community of talented and inspiring souls, of precious and kind words, of humble and humbling poets... Keep it up sharing and loving Poetry! So glad I've found you :-)
With love
Lucrezia MN
I love Hello Poetry!!!
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