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 Apr 2017
J
Brain excogitated,
Heart swelled with apricity,
Hands scribed poetry
 Feb 2017
Ma Cherie
A bubbling goodness,
and some simmering heat,
like the melting of heaven
that just can't be beat,
intoxicating wafts,
so sickeningly sweet,

In swirls of deep Cocoa,
and fresh Vermont cream,
my homemade hot chocolate,
is like sipping a dream,

A warm and delicious place to escape,
come in from the cold of the world,
in a ball on the couch,
where I sit and I sip,
with my cat where he is,
as he's curled,

He's up on my lap,
as I give him a pat,
on his thankful and sweet little head,
and I say that I'm thankful for all
and for our comfy warm little bed,
and I watch it snow - at last,

I listen to music that's alive in this place,
a friendly sweet smile comes to my face,

I say me a thank you,
to whoever will hear,
I hear comfort whispered again in my ear,
and I feel a beautiful moment of peace.

Ma Cherie © 2017
Escape... Ugh lol sorry I've been away with family stuff poets hope you are all well x - Vermont
 Jan 2017
Mikayla Smith
Writer extraordinaire,
Adventurer,
Wanderer of the stars.
Roamer of broken streets
And lover of the dark.

Explorer of words,
Lover of yellowing pages,
Binder of such elegant growth.
Cursive to the keen eye
And raindrops on the silky petals of a rose.

Pieces of me shine through the littlest crevices,
In the open spaces and hard-to-reach places.
Who am I to deny such poetry?
Just a fun little poem I wrote in the heat of the moment.
 Jan 2017
Mikayla Smith
Life seems pretty
Plain with
Their faces so dull,
Arms so
Weak, the
Weight
Of the world
So heavy.

Suppose that it
Does get
Brighter beyond these
Black horizons and
Opaque words of
The mad.

Where will we be
Once the
Weight of
The world crumbles
Beneath
Mounds of
Saline tears and
Ashen hearts?
Title explains it all, my friends.
 Jan 2017
Mikayla Smith
Look o’er there,
Do you
See?
For boundaries
Are
Nonexistent in this
Moment by
The dead oak
Tree.

Used to be
Magic
Here by the
Dead
Oak tree, used to
Be clothed
In rich autumn
Leaves, dressed
In the fresh moonlit
Breeze.

Nonexistent, a delusion
Amidst a lengthy
Battle of clarity
And confusion.
Is this what we
Dreamed
While we watched
The life drain
From the oak
Tree?

A skeleton against
The ******,
Wounded sky,
The brown
Leaves of
The dead oak
Tree fly
By.
 Jan 2017
Mikayla Smith
I am the result
Of a love affair
Between darkness and
The galaxies
Above; stars
Gleaming in the
Most unlikely of
Places.

My heart and my
Mind collide
Like asteroids
Hitting the
Surface of
Earth, with
A million black
Holes reaching
To pull me
Back in.

I am a love
Child of the
Sky, with
The sun leaving
At dusk and
The moon
Always standing
By my
Side.
 Jan 2017
Gianfranco Aurilio
I am made of earth
bleached blonde by the sun
that from its heart
radiates its rays into my veins.
The pores of my luxuriant skin
are fields
full of trees
and full of every fruit.
Oceans burrow my legs
through my arms,
colourful lakes
drive crystal-clear waters
and waterfalls
barely come to surface.
My fingers are rivers of stars
that turn my hands and my feet
into skies,
evanescent comets appear
and my eyes are full of galaxies.
My hair is foam from the sea
my lips are shells dressed with pearls
and my eyelashes
are plaited with golden silver.
From my cloud nose to my moon ears
my face is a tapestry of flowers and scents
the light of the day unfurls itself upon me
all around me
the dawn and the sunset
kiss the night.

10.11.'15

— The End —