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Pools of rainwater become utopian portals
Sunny sunshine is a quiet confidante from beneath the Weeping Willow
The sky illustrates by the minute with colors of silver , blue and gold
Bluebirds wrote a song for us
We lay wind-washed among fair field flowers
Afternoon mellow , whispered articulate -
modes of eternity , the miracle of love unfolding
The evening faces twilight as a beautiful bride
Swan song , Mourning dove ballads , mercurial
fading daytime* ....
Copyright November 11 , 2016 by Randolph L Wilson * All Rights Reserved
 Nov 2016 John Hawkins
Anna Mosca

may my smile
be forever loving
as I play in life

new roles and adjust
words as a tight dress

may wind clothe me
forever changing
just that loving smile

let that one survive
www.annamosca.com
this poem is part of the collection California Notebooks 01
_
Some days I wither like a
Wilted rose waiting for
The wind to pick my petals,
One by one, like a morbid
Little girl -- she whistles
To the tune of "I live, I love
For naught, I live not."

Most days, I feel like
The man on the moon;
So far removed -- my
White smile set in stone.
Yet these shadows shown
Have made such beauty
Into all I have ever known.
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