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1
Rain's blue-black cloak, tied with rainbow girdle,
visible over the green hills,across rice fields,
she waves and rushes forward.
From distance, the incessant chant
of South-West monsoon,
sounds like a mature witch practicing her craft.
      One would think,she is all evil,dark
       the overcast sky her sinister cloak,
But under my umbrella
a coy maiden, i desired from afar,
who walk with me step by matching step
with all the cunning tricks of love
trying to entice me with her soft body's tunes,
her tender cool fingers rubbing my cheeks,
her unmistakable lover's touch eager, transgressing
desirous of getting me in to her arms.
2.
She makes me mad
i throw away my umbrella
in the rambunctiousness of a teenager and run with her,
at once her naughty hands pinch and tickle me
then an intense embrace that makes me shiver
with the deep pleasure, I drempt in wakeful nights,
joy of life that rain tune and smell of damp earth evoke!
The green loud glee in me it creates!
In dreams, rain come to me
and tells me the secrets of night
that I long for my love and me alone.
3
Rain, the seductress who taught me
the secret passions of living and loving,
and the burning sensation, of love
that runs deep in the  core of one's being.
When I lay awake, in a monsoon night,
outside my window, she plays tango,
wind holding her by the waist, with fierce passion,
that keeps me awake til,
I get absorbed in a dream
that has passionate love as the under current.
                   )O(
 Jul 2013 High on Lolipops
st64
one slipped out
unobtrusively


now
instead of walking safely
on a globe
you're slipping
on that one marble...


so ...out of place*




S T, 7 July 2013
keep counting them marbles ...yeah, keep counting!
love looking at the patterns in marbles :)


oft, external things have a way of letting themselves in...uninvited

nothing like retreating into one's inner space....bubble of peace...where we sometimes just get to say: leave me the hell alone!





sub-entry: Fixing a Hole - Lennon / McCartney

I'm fixing a hole where the rain gets in
And stops my mind from wandering
Where it will go

I'm filling the cracks that ran through the door
And kept my mind from wandering
Where it will go

And it really doesn't matter if I'm wrong I'm right
Where I belong I'm right
Where I belong.

See the people standing there who disagree and never win
And wonder why they don't get in my door
I'm painting my room in a colourful way

And when my mind is wandering
There ....I will go
And it really doesn't matter if I'm wrong I'm right
Where I belong I'm right
Where I belong.

Silly people run around they worry me
And never ask me why they don't get past my door
I'm taking the time for a number of things
That weren't important yesterday
And I still go

I'm fixing a hole where the rain gets in
And stops my mind from wandering
Where it will go.



Written by John Winston Lennon, Paul James Mccartney





►►
ex-movies.com/watch.php?vid=380fcfd29
I reference this not as the flower just of nature but in this case for the fact it is our anniversary this is an
Oleander of my heart yes the heart is a house all of my feelings and emotions are housed there the
Flower I choose to write about is my sister my wife’s sister Liz it’s kind of appropriate since she was the
Only one in our wedding party as we were married before a judge I guess she was a witness a witness to
The crime as it were to describe her I can use Roy Orbison’s song pretty woman a blonde cutie with
Southern roots in Tennessee now she is a near Chicago northerner take southern nights and northern
Bright lights infuse them with grace and charm you have begun to see the Oleander that lies beyond my
Door yard along my walk and borders the yard of my heart the glistening in the spring rain if you get real
Still you can hear tiny sounds of laughter among the joy filled faces the scented bloom fills my living
Room where ever I am eye catching satisfying delightful spring and summer what a wonder the spilling
Forth of fruitful life she matches the rose in pose an attitude of significance tinged with just enough
Brashness to hold your attention until you become beholden to the inner life that shows character
Wisdom authority a driven wind that lays down in the most beautiful fashion only to arise and make the
Trees sing the glass to shake in the most enjoyable way all in unison they dance the eye stormed by this
Profusion of elegance and color truly a best friend to the wayward wind carried near and far secrets rest
Within the heart that the Oleander knows and claims in darkness unflappable a sweet ghostliness an
Arbor found sweetly remembered but never forgotten unspoiled withstanding the day’s heat showing
Resilience a buoyancy of sprit uncommon the thrill that runs with deep rootedness when the sharp wind
Does blow she through power of will brings calm a flourish of maturity so lovely that is outstanding in all
these gifts she provides the greatest is she calls me friend thanks sis
I could tell you of a story, of this flower that I saw.
Growing in a little crack, this flower had it all.
It's beauty got me thinking, how ****** we forget.
It isn't where we come from, it's that we never quit.
The struggles that this flower faced, no quiver nor a fall.
It rose above the chances,
through this crack that was so small.
The only will was life, and the chance that it may "be".
Exist in ways intended, and truly live as free.
This dandelions beauty, gives me the strength to know,
content with where I'm rooted, 
 and will to always grow.
Death told her
           her life should end
and he was her friend

Calmly, she stole my gun
     she walked outside in the sun
pulled the trigger, set the mood
barrel to her head to conclude

I saw her head come undone
,,, Reached down, for my gun
Eyed the chunks in her hair
Now to my head |
                               |I draw a rose there.
Of gunslingers
It is possible for there to be no dream
Far out, impossible and too rigid to climb is how it may seem

Full of danger, and only for the brave
The things that you dream become the memories that you save

Not a "what if" but a "when and what time"
Would be the only questions to ever come to mind

Giving up would not exist
More things would be scratched off a bucket list

If only perseverance was more than just a word
These dreams that we have wouldn't be considered absurd

They wouldn't mean anything
For a mistress to a wife

But all those complex visions we see
Would be the adventures of life
tears ; hidden in deep ponder
thoughts of the brain can make ones mind wander

destination is the surface
but a fight is always there

millions around
no one aware

truth screaming out from the inside
emotion is there, hard to subside

confusion, anger, worry, and love
pain is the outcome to all the above

depression, anxiety, regret is there too
always a reason, never something new

they hide, I hide ; something we share
what they don't know, won't cause a scare

but it does for me, I am the cause
life does this, I want to press pause

tired of the inside controlling my out
no one really knows what I think about

tears are the result of everything about me
nothing good to come from, nothing that is worthy
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