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 Mar 2017 Moonsocket
Doug Potter
I am lost again
beyond the hills
where we made love

under the South Dakota
sun in the wide, wide
open as the wheat

lofted toward the bluest
of June skies and we
rolled and rolled

into an indifferent
world forever,
forever.
Sometimes a neighbors smile is really a wall ,
meant to draw you away from
life's frequent pitfalls ...
A friend in need has planted a seed
Let the flower grow , water it well
Chart a course for happiness and let love sail
Copyright March 15 , 2017 by Randolph L Wilson * All Rights Reserved
I kneel before the river of Eternity, beside the weeping tree. I gaze in wonder at my reflection, this rippling version of me.

Dark hair cascading down my shoulders, framing my thoughtful face. Wind dances delicately around me, my only companion in this place.

I stumbled upon strength somehow, I tucked it away for tomorrow. Still learning a lesson in patience, youth is something we can't borrow.

I'm embarking on a journey, to find this part of me I've lost. This battle within me has to stop, no matter what the cost.

Epiphany gave me the map in hand, after he crippled me with mighty blows. I'm off to defeat the monster in me, and reclaim this person my reflection shows.
 Mar 2017 Moonsocket
mikecccc
Your life
was a threat
not threatening
by existing
but the idea
of having you're life
was a warning
would you be defensive
would you just shrug
would you turn things around
would you could you.
I lean on hot British tea in the early to mid morning
My staple drink of the quiet afternoon
Anytime during the day when things aren't quite right
Always sipping a cup or two late at night* ...
Copyright March 6 , 2017 by Randolph L Wilson * All Rights Reserved
 Mar 2017 Moonsocket
ryn
Submission
 Mar 2017 Moonsocket
ryn
He toils all day and all year.
He takes each misgiving
and gives them momentary life,
through one lamentable tear...
Before he carries on digging.

He gets his hands *****,
as he digs through soil, earth and sweat.
No end in sight,
or he'd rather not see.
No solace he'd find,
no peace he'd let.

He only sees this expanse of land...
Of which he diligently keeps.
Tales told by dishevelled sand,
covering secrets
which he has been burying deep.

He has made this
his past, present and future.
He'd make sure that each would fit.
Tied to this grounds,
he is the worn-out keeper.
He never tells but he buries hatchets.
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