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 Sep 2017 woolgather
Cné
Long lines looped the carousel
the first time you gazed my eye,
mounted on that chestnut mare,
grasped tight to the reigns up high.

I see his face around the bend,
a corn dog in his hand.
Locking eyes as I rise. I blush,
above the crowd he stands.
  
Light flickers, mouths water
delicate contoured lips laugh. I smile.
The music hesitates along with my breath.
I think I'll be staying awhile.

Bewildered and a little dizzy,
I dismount with a giggle.
I lick my dry lips, dreamily,
hoping he is single.

With the wind, a light mist blows.
I can see her slowly get wet,
stumbling she falls my way.
I'm excited, this day isn't over yet

Drip, drip, drip upon my face,
anxiously, I turn to hurry.
In my haste, he catches my waist
swallowing... I fall covertly.

Lips moisten, I pull her near
a kiss, slipped, tongues twirl,
wanton whispers whisked away,
drenched deep passion's unfurl.

A stranger's kiss upon my lips
beneath the dreary skies.
Soaking wet, I'm still on fire
He caught me by surprise.

A stranger's kiss upon my lips
beneath the queching skies.
Heaven sent, a burning desire;
she, such a welcomed surprise.
A collaboration with TSPoerty.
In honor of the State Fair of Texas opening day ... tomorrow.
https://hellopoetry.com/TS_Poetry/
Thanks for the ride Tim!
Rippling water. Perfect. Distance. Better. Beautiful. Fading. Circle. Incomplete circle with one arc missing. Beautiful. Fading. Waving. Riding a wave until its demise. Lying. Relaxing. Waving. Crashing. Immediate imperfection. Distance. A perfect sight from a distance. Initial chaos. Organization. Life. Traveling. Riding. Dying. Terminating. Repeating. Rippling. Cold water.
Eventually,
It will all fall into to place,
The bad days will melt away,
And the good will take front stage,
But till that day,
We'll get through this,
Tired and swamped,
Fighting through the mist,
We call teenage hood.
 Sep 2017 woolgather
The Dedpoet
Sub-atomic strings,
Each flailing in a solar system
        Deep under eye's
Reach,
    Taken at present
With a grey gloom under
  A Fall wind's coming,
      The first steps
Like a toddler graduation,
       Vacating the spaces
In a perception one's own,
          
     Sub-atomic,
Tiny presences,
     A walk alone
Between the spaces.
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