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 Jan 2018 Halsea Callis
Meaby Pom
All night
Spent gazing in your eyes
All day
For once. I speak truth
No reason to lie
Sun set
I ask you to be mine.
In time.
Sun rise
For you baby
Like a candle in my eye
There will always be a fire.
 Jan 2018 Halsea Callis
Michael L
You are a benevolent visitor
Inaudible as my dreams
Everything you touch
Turns to crystal and white

Oh how my eyes delight
In your beautiful patterns
As you lay quietly upon glass
Can you stay forever?

My flesh abhors you
For the sting you administer
yet Autumn's half-stripped trees
Wear you as a morning garment

I do blame the sun
As it shortens your reign
Your brevity intensifies my desire
To see you on the morrow
A brief thought on FROST as it invades my morning commute ...
 Jan 2018 Halsea Callis
Michael L
Autumn is fading
Trees once clothed with amber leaves
Stand exposed again
good-bye Autumn, see you next year :)
 Jan 2018 Halsea Callis
Michael L
Your lips move slowly,
yet, in this moment
there is silence.
Your warm breath
caresses my face.

And with anticipation
I don't need words.
Everything you need to say
is whispered in your thoughts  
and echoed by your fingertips.

Your touch is thunderous,
resounding deep within us  
penetrating all my defenses,
filling that space between us.
In these moments I submit.

Powerless to resist this passion.
Ecstasy and lightning entwined,
flashes of lust and love
spark from skin to skin,
as the silent storm surges over us.

Briefly the world is muted.
Only you and I exist, fully exposed.
Vulnerable, we surrender completely,
trusting this silence to satisfy
our unquenchable appetite.
Thanks Elizabeth J for allowing me to collaborate with you on this poem. It was my pleasure!
 Jan 2018 Halsea Callis
Michael L
BLUE* oceans I see
Waves DANCE perpetually
Feel HER gravity
Em, this is your haiku (I admit defeat) ... (smiles) ... congrats!!!
Dear David:

We are deeply gratified that you gave us the opportunity
to read your poems.  Notice that we say “opportunity”
rather than “submission,” for truly you graced us with works
of such enduring power, so sublime, so transcendent,
that our humble words scarce can adequately praise
the sacred privilege of reading them.

Seldom, no, never has human experience been so distilled,
so purified, so exalted, yet so exposed
in all its paradox, its shades and sunbursts,
shouts and silences, the hiding places redolent of inner light,
as in these timeless works.  

A calm breeze from the desert’s edge at dusk,
the chatter of a mockingbird at dawn,
the rumble and crash of a hidden waterfall,
the laughter of a child unseen in a cool wood’s shade,
emanate so intensely from the shapes of these letters
that our faith in the power of language to evoke reality
has been nourished and restored to its proper place.

However, we regret to inform you
that your poems do not meet our needs at this time,
which are for relevant poems for the upcoming
theme issue on Hammer Toes.

We hope you will consider us for future opportunities.

Sincerely,

The editors of ******* Quarterly
Have been collecting a lot of rejection letters lately.  Here's my interpretation.
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