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Vast, this snowy land
still and deep the quiet country
cold the cloudy fog we breathe
gasping winds that rise and break the silence
along a fence line, slowly disappearing
how small the trees and distant hills that fade like smoke
and loom the clouds like ghosts, blooming madly white - the sky
if in winter we should meet deep along some snowy height
gazing as the grey and whites fade swiftly into night
some evening silently await the moon, void of words to speak
with great Peace - to breathe beneath the great north star that shines
i.

Miɳɛ รѳutɦɛɑรt pɛtɑʆ,
Dɛʆicɑtɛ ɑɳɗ ɑʀʀɑyɛɗ.
O' ɦѳw ʆѳѵɛʆy tɦѳu ɑʀt,
Dɛɑʀɛรt pɛtɑʆ; ɓy tɦɛ
Hɑɳɗ'ร ѳԲ gѳɗ, tɦѳu
Aʀt ɱɑɗɛ.

ii.

Miɳɛ ɱɑgɳiԲicɛɳt ɑɳgɛʆ,
Fʆѳɑtiɳg iɳ tɦɛ wiɳɗ,
Lѳѵɛʀ ѳԲ tuʀtʆɛ'ร;
Tɦɛ cʀɛɑtѳʀ ɦɑtɦ ɱɑɗɛ tɦѳu
Aร ɑ quɛɛɳ iɳ wɑtɛʀ ɑɳɗ รɑɳɗ.

iii.

Cɑʆʆigʀɑpɦy'ร ɛɱpʀɛรร
Lɑรร ѳԲ pѳɛt'ร ɱiɳɗ'ร,
Tɦiɳɛ ɓʆɑck รiʆk ɦɑiʀ
Mɑtcɦɛtɦ tɦɛ pɛtɑʆ tɦѳu
Aʀt ɗɛɑʀ, O' ɦѳw ʆikɛ
Rɑiɳɗʀѳp'ร; tɦiɳɛ Բɑcɛ
Dѳtɦ รɦiɳɛ.



©Bʀɑɳɗѳɳ ɳɑgʆɛy
©Lѳɳɛรѳɱɛ pѳɛtร pѳɛtʀy
©Eɑʀʆ Jɑɳɛ ɳɑgʆɛy ( Fiʆipiɳѳ ʀѳรɛ) ɗɛɗicɑtiѳɳ
Poem is as such if you can't read,

Title- like raindrop's, thy face doth shine..

i.

Mine southeast petal,
Delicate and arrayed.
O' how lovely thou art,
Dearest petal; by the
Hand's of god, thou
Art made,

ii.

Mine magnificent angel,
Floating in the wind,
Lover of turtle's;
The creator hath made thou
As a queen in water and sand.

iii.

Calligraphy's empress
Lass of poets mind's,
Thine black silk hair
Matcheth the petal thou
Art dear, O' how like
Raindrop's; thine face
Doth shine,
You think you know me
Because you know of patterns
You know the way of people
And you've been told the way the world turns..

You expect my next move
As if we are playing a game of chess
And you anticipate your next win
Upon my unmoved guess..

I tell you now,
that you know nothing of my mind
I move with the waves of my heart
My chosen next move is mine.
Drop your Grudge Rants
by the door
We Will Not Tolarate
This Anymore

Edit and toss Distasteful Rhymes
Ugly Poems with Vain designs

Haughty thoughts and
bitter words
Childish petty accusing verbs

Who did What to Who and When
Will this Clusterfuck never end?

Selfish actions, Spoiled Children
We Refuse to be your Minions

Like CNN
And Drone Fox news

We've had enough of
Self Serving views

Hurting hearts, far and wide
tender Poets with
tenuous pride

Yet, Strutting and Indignant
for who I ask?
All those involved,
A Donkeys ***

Not a home for
Egotistical Zealots
Nor a place for
flinging pellets

We come in Peace, HP to share
Not get caught in ugly snares

And to the few that
have the gaul.

"If you have nothing decent to say,
say nothing at all"

YOU CHOOSE TO USE
HP THIS WAY.
GO AWAY. FIND SOME
WHERE ELSE TO PLAY.

●HELLO●HELLO●HELLO●**
                

Copyright © 2015 Christi Michaels.
All Rights Reserved
☆ YES, I AM YELLING ☆
Many of us feel so cheated when we
have a moment to come onto HP
and our time is wasted by ugly
degrading Rant Writes
against other Poets.
SERIOUSLY. . Come on.. REALLY???????
For Sheron, On Our Seventh Anniversary:
Bound and Boundless

~~~
different shaped,
a square peg, a round hole,

and yet, the carpenter is pleased

two planes,
different shaped,
yet overlaying,
occupying
conjoined space,
angular symmetry

and yet, the geometrist is satisfied

can


bound and boundless,*

fully opposing notions,
incontrovertible,
yet be in pleasing poetic
combination?

how
can it be,
two bonded,
distinct spheres
contoured with crossover
bordered blended boundaries
exceed aligned,
beyond merest connecting,
overlapping,
intersecting

two circles
electronically collide,
venn diagrammed
to share,
programmed unknowingly for creating
a big bang
of a harmonious, simultaneous
new star creation

this mystery,
this poem,
its
resolution~solution,
comes to the poet
late in life,
yet contented, believing,
it is a far, far
better
thing that he does
now,
than never

life and love
living in unison,
transforming, deserving
of a unique discrete,
le nom est
l'unite

perhaps you are thinking,
this poem, a failed attempt,
neither the best or the worst
of any written anywhere
upon this green globe,
this day

yet he smiles
as it composes itself,
for though without its own sustaining merit,
it is a poem
regarding the best work
he
have ever done,
and the unity
it portrait paints,
is a
nova
worthy surely
of a thousand millennia

and yet, the poet is content
with its
content*

~~~
Dec. 15, 2015
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