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Her body’s poetry
got my taste buzz
buzzing for honey
My body buzzing
with excitement
Her mind flirtatious ways
signal my body
like a buzzer
My mind  buzzing
with ideas
Heart flares abuzz
like a blaze
I’ve heard the latest
buzz about her ecstasy
breathlessly waiting  to
abuzz into her body’s heat
Shhhh,  
Her body’s poetry
buzzing for my love!
Shhhh a buzzy kind of day ;) G’morning!
Why
Do we lie
Then deny
Why
Do we let love die
Say goodbye
Why
Do we trust
Then lust
Why
Do we try so hard
Then put up a guard
Why
When we get near
We fear
Why
Do we dream
Then scream
Why
Do we pretend
It will not end
Why
Do we hold back tears
For years
Why
Do we think the hurt will heal
Deny it was real
Why
Did we not share
And never dared
Why
Were we best friends
Then never again
#why
I abide
Sunny
Inspite
Of agony
I caress
The Aurora
Inspite of cloudburst
I show the globe
Stupendous adoration
Inspite Of distress
My heart
Abide
Unclouded
Inspite
Malicious
I have this fire
Burning in my soul
I
wasn’t born
For the cold
Who am I as a man  Still yet to  unearth..... I found love where it doesn’t belong!

Sometimes you have to remove the noise
and listen to the silence

to awaken from the dream
you thought you were living

Written: August 1, 2018

All rights reserved.
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A whirlwind of stagnant breeze
disturbs the warmest stillness.
Solar rays shimmer and coalesce
forming images of the Summer Girl.

Fragrant scents in light colours
float gently from her hair.
Flowers laced with golden thread
adorning her head like a wreath.

Chasing the shadows of clouds
across the heat haze so strange.
Her body lithe and newly alive
darting and flitting dragonfly style.

Arriving at the painting of the dawn
and here to nurse the day.
Leaving at the doom of sunset,
wisping images of the Summer Girl.



©Pagan Paul (07/06/14).
.
Old Poem
.
 Aug 2018 Lauren Ehrler
r
It is summer -
a quiet night

- the silence
disquieting

all those lights
out on the water -

- stars, like floating
diamonds

moon, you big old pearl
- my lifebuoy

a driftwood fire of dreams
to hold me -

until morning comes
slowly - like a sad-eyed model

- tired of her beauty, wanting
more than a moment in the sun.
maybe my poems
(my love)
are meant for the rain
she will carry my words
(my love)
across the river
to the sea
tell the fisherman
he’s got mail
 Aug 2018 Lauren Ehrler
J
She Loved
 Aug 2018 Lauren Ehrler
J
She loved someone
wholeheartedly,
yet her heart
still got trampled on.
But she dug deep and
found she still have
some love to give.
Only, she gave it to
herself this time
and that made all
the difference.
Which made me love her even more.
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