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 Aug 2014 Dina
Ivy Mukherjee
Still it hurts ..
When it gets cold and I'm crawling
On the bed all alone .

Still it hurts ..
When I go through your pictures cherishing
Your laughter and your madness .

Still it hurts ..
When I know the reality , yet I don't stop
My daydreaming of being with you
F-O-R-E-V-E-R .

Still it hurts ..
When I don't know why I can't move on
From your child-like grin !

Still it hurts ..
Because I know nobody can't replace you
And I will love you F-O-R-E-V-E-R !
 Aug 2014 Dina
Melania
I can't even listen to your voice
Without thinking of that sweet symphony
That left me believing I had a choice.

A decision not to want you
Won by your determination to win me over
I wish I hadn't come through
When I knew you were far from sober.

I'd rather not be captured by this charming melody
I wish I would be deaf to the sound of your piercing voice
As this is the only symphony for which I ache but I have no choice.
When I asked you to fix me,
You told me I wasn't broken.
But, let this soak in.
I just wanted to know,
If i was still a pretty enough picture to be worth, agonizing over a puzzle.
Even when it's a struggle.
And you have to nuzzle each piece into place,
Kissing the pieces bent out of shape,
Searching for pieces gone missing,
But you can't make a raisin back into a grape.
Yes, I Remember your middle name
And who says we can't celebrate failure?
Don't be sad, we tried, we tried.
When you write your story in the sand it washes away with the tide.
It isn't our fault.
We may have cut ourselves open, But we didn't ask for the salt in our
wounds
Can I still say "we"?
I guess you're kind of done with me.
I don't blame you, Puzzles are frustrating.
they're a tease.
Please, tell me I haven't lost the most important piece.
Tell me I haven't lost
you.

© copyrighted Nicole Ann Osborn
 Aug 2014 Dina
Rumi
Both light and shadow
are the dance of Love.

Love has no cause;
it is the astrolabe of God’s secrets.

Lover and Loving are inseparable
and timeless.



Although I may try to describe Love
when I experience it I am speechless.

Although I may try to write about Love
I am rendered helpless;
my pen breaks and the paper slips away
at the ineffable place
where Lover, Loving and Loved are one.



Every moment is made glorious
by the light of Love.
 Aug 2014 Dina
Rumi
The moon has become a dancer
at this festival of love.
This dance of light,

This sacred blessing,
This divine love,
beckons us
to a world beyond
only lovers can see
with their eyes of fiery passion.

They are the chosen ones
who have surrendered.
Once they were particles of light
now they are the radiant sun.

They have left behind
the world of deceitful games.
They are the privileged lovers
who create a new world
with their eyes of fiery passion.

— The End —