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 Jul 2020 Darrel Weeks
nivek
recycled skin-dust-and-bone
food for plants and animals
seeping slowly strands of DNA
back from whence they came.
Love Is Unique
My sweetheart take my heart from heart to heart
But you have to promise never ever to depart
I am enthralled by your beauty so sweet so smart
I carry your beauty from pore to pore ,part to part
I am proud in your love and I am no more on land
Your heart to heart beats make me to understand
We are on one frequency and on one just love band
Uniqueness of our love make us wonderfully grand
Love remains my love and it increases with the time
Your charm is sublime and has a sonnet with rhyme
Love remains a worship and is never ever a silly crime
Let my love embrace you with all sincerity to be sublime
Colonel Muhammad Khalid Khan
Copyright July 2020 Love Remains
Can you feel the afternoon breeze?
I'm watching the falling leaves

I can't help but stare
I'm  wishing you were here
I'm watching the falling leaves
Can you feel the afternoon breeze?

I'm watching the falling leaves
Can you feel the afternoon breeze?
I'm watching the falling leaves
Can you feel the afternoon breeze?

Falling leaves
I'm watching the falling leaves
I'm watching the falling leaves

I can't help but stare
I'm wishing you were here
wishing you were here
wishing you were here

I can't help but stare
I'm watching the falling leaves
Can you feel the afternoon breeze?

Falling leaves
Falling leaves
Falling leaves
Falling leaves

Can you feel the afternoon breeze?
I'm watching the falling leaves
Falling . falling leaves,
With smiles and laughter through the night,
I watch as she begins to get tired,
With the sight of her sleepy eyes,
As seeing what was once a live wire
Become tired right before my eyes,
It's here, in a moment of dire, she surrenders this night,
With her head resting on my chest,
As only a moment passes by, and softly, as she fails to reply,
I kiss her on her forehead,
And say "I love you angel, goodnight"
The crows are going
  to rise up
over the black asphalt
  city skyline

singing into the
  blood red sky
   hearts crowned
    with fire and hope

flying high and free
   flying over
     the mountain tops

singing of the
   promised land

singing for the dead
   but not forgotten

singing words
  of flame
    and poetry

singing for
   freedom
     and unity
 Nov 2017 Darrel Weeks
Marion
Crushed flowers are beautiful,
dried, pressed
not useful but certainly nice to look at
My sister affectionately called me a 'delicate little flower' one of the many times you made me break down, crushed from false accusation
until i eventually dried up
pressed myself until the pain no longer hurt.
I wondered why i had become such a fragile thing
shouldn't heartbreak build you up, a learning experience rather than reducing you to a few petals and a stem.
i feel more like a tree
green and great during the warm summer months
unaware of the freezing winter winds that will blow away all my protective leaves. barren. cold.
i hope someday i will become evergreen
beautiful, tall, luscious and full- pine or cedar or spruce
staying fragrant all year round

but for now i remain a daisy
nothing special
dried, pressed and crushed between these pages, within these words.
wrote this after my biology exam today
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