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**
There
Is only place for the child
To learn
To be
Morally correct
And that is
Home
At this hour of solitude,
Don't be mistaken
I am burning alone,
When the tail is hopped off
Both groan in the grass,
I am penning
these verses to you,
For I want to know
You are, like always,
On the platform
To catch me,
Or like never before,
Have already boarded.
Whatever is with you,
Or going to happen,
I am waiting
To watch the episode
In which
You are hitting the floor,
Holding his alluring arms,
Or drinking a glass
At the counter
Looking to the door.
As you know
My dumbness
Is not numbness,
Or may be
The vice versa
Is within you,
And if you desire
Like a mother
To see her missing son
Or daughter
After a long summer,
Run and do the same,
For I am sure
You can't live
Without me
As my love as true
As waves to sea.
Perfection is a disease that most everyone is suffering from.

We all strive for it, some die because of it, and some make it an obsession.
He  stays  with  us  in  winter  storms
And  when  the  garden's  bleak
He  hops  around  in  sleet  and  hail
Appearing  pale  and  weak.

But  once  the  days  begin  to  lengthen
And  the  worst  of  winter's  gone
He  perches  high  up  in  a  tree
And  begins  his  joyful  song.

Keith  Wilson.  Windermere.  UK.  2016.
Sad  to  hear  of  the  passing
of  Muhammad  ALI.

One  of  the  greatest  boxer's
of  our  time.

Henry  Cooper  knocked  him
down  once.
But  he  was  saved  by  the  bell.

Keith  Wilson.  Windermere.  UK.  2016.
It's  blistering  hot  here  today.
Not  at  all  like  the  British
Lake  District.
I  have  borrowed  a  fan
from  the  lady  next  door.
To  try  and  cool  off.
I  don't  know  how  long
this  weather  will  last.
Perhaps  it  will  end
In  thunder  storms.


Keith  Wilson.  Windermere.  UK.  2016.
You told me you
              Couldn't find your way
                                     In your darkest nights
So I left you a star
               A star in every poem
                               To find your way home
//On her//
Thank you all for loving this poem so much! It's such an honor to have a daily poem.
I wrote this for a special someone in my life.
The  Deluge

Heavy  thundery  rain
Cascading  down  from  the  heavens.

The  sheer  volume  of  water
Causing  a  sinister  mist  across  the  rooftops.

A  waterfall  suddenly  fell
In  front  of  my  window.

The  gutters  unable  to  cope.

For  a  few  moments
It  felt  like  the  end  of  the  world.

Keith  Wilson.  Windermere.  UK.  2016.
Another  day  is  over.
Another  day  is  done.
This  week  went  past  so  quickly.
This  week  went  by  so  fast.
My  life  has  gone  so  quickly.
Old  men  told  me  so.
And  now  I  tell  the  young  men.
That  life  to  quickly  goes.

Keith  Wilson.  Windermere.  UK.  2016.
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