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 Nov 2020 Me and You
Redaviel
When?
 Nov 2020 Me and You
Redaviel
Tonight's lovely and moon glow leaks
How long should I wait to pinch those cheeks?
Waiting, thinking, still looking forward to
That pleasant heartbeat when I meet you
A morning, daydreaming, what should I do?

If the sun's sleeping, gray clouds will play
An umbrella, cinderella, brought and fit for you
A little bit of inconveniece is small price to pay
When the day comes and I know the words to say
To make you smile, I don't know, we'll find a way
 Nov 2020 Me and You
Cné
October
 Nov 2020 Me and You
Cné
~
I am summer,
    and sunshine
        mixed with
the passion of
    autumn hurricane.
       I have the
             soul of a mermaid,
                 fierceness of a lioness,
                    heart of a hippie,
                  spirit of butterflies,
              and a mouth
           I can’t always control.
        I slay, I pray
    I dream
of possibilities
      and not the
             probability.
                Call me crazy but
            I believe wishes
    come true with the
         click of my fingers
             and the flicker
               of my tongue.  
         I am bold;
a woman
       in control,
          unashamed as
                a sinful angel.
                        I am Libra.

~
Happy Birthday month to all my fellow Libra friends
 Nov 2020 Me and You
Colm
Sometimes
All a man can do is
B R E A T H E

Be with the current
Atop the stream
And alive within the breeze

Sometimes
All a man can do is
B E
I embrace you in all your goodness.
I embrace your spirit, the breath of freshness.
I embrace you the creative force in the universe and in me.
I embrace you in all your humanity that I love,
in my humanity I love.
I am waking up to you in my day dreams
where figments of you
sneak into my psyche.
If I but take a moment to laze, to relax
and give the slightest effort
to place myself in your presence
you creep up into me
and even in a shallow breath you enliven my lungs.
You are here in the slow cool breath of winter,
hardly seen in the young tallow trees
whose hearts are just barely moved
but even in what cannot be called a flutter
they shrug the change of the seasons
as if to say to you:
we are here, ready to be transformed.
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