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Take your quill,
Dip it in my ink
Look me in the eyes,
Dont look away or blink
Write me a love poem,
Whisper it in my ear
Make me so hot,
My skin starts to sear
Make love to me on paper,
With your written words
Make my lust soar higher,
Than even the birds
Then when you're finished,
Use propper punctuation
It makes my body throb,
Takes my lust, to the highest elevation
If I am feeling the need to purge
I head on out to nature's church
Where I can feel peace
Where I can have quiet
and practice my amen in nature's diet.

Do not know which I like more
Listen to an owl call for his mate with a hoot
or when the tree frogs start singing and follow suit
Have a picnic under my favorite birch
oh yeah nature is my church

Do not know which I like more
My favorite coffee while watching the sunrise
or watching all the colors of a sunset in the skies
Seeking out treasures and trails to search
oh yeah nature is my church

So let us show a little appreciation
and give a thanks to the man upstairs
When it comes to his creations
We should bow our head in thankful prayer

Who says I am lost if I wander
but I can get lost in God's wonder
It isn't hard just look around and search
Nature should be all our church
I got the idea of this poem after listening to the beautiful song by Maren Morris ~ My Church.  If you haven't heard that song give it a listen  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rd-V0LuQ0v4
freedom can be bare feet
or naked
or laughter
freedom can be poetry
When I think of you and me
I think of a tree

Sometimes that tree is full
prosperous
beautiful
full of life
So full it reminds me of the stars
Where we sit on a blanket and count them
Where we think they are all ours

Sometimes that tree is empty
Each passing day
more leaves
fall to the ground
Until one day
all that is left is one
Saddened by what it has become
Because on the darkest nights
I see faint rays of the purest light,
And among the fatal deceptions
lost in exalted sorrows,
       I know that there is still poetry.
When the words are welled
Inside a throat like a fire
Waking from its slumber,
Rain the embers to paper,
      The words like a familiar pain,
      Speak as the darkness speaks,
      Take in the honest friend,
      Let them take you to tranquillity.
Because when I am at my blackest,
The poem understands me,
It speaks to me,
Cries with me,
I give my darkest to its white surface,
       A cave serrated by light,
      The words will speak in the night,
      They will light the way
      To new dawns,
And you are never alone
If you have read these words,
Because through them,
We become as one.
I'm always here if you just need to get something off your chest. I offer myself to you who might feel alone and in deep darkness.
Beautiful
and
Improbable.

Like so many
of our
human
relationships.
This evolved into my first (10W) poem.
©Elisa Maria Argiro
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