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Jan 2010
This warm cup of tea,
Mesmerizing me,
Flows in its essence.
Through my senses,
Engaging my mind,
Body and soul, draws
Me brilliant pictures,
Recollection of,
Fondest memories.

I sip- I feel,
A rush of the changing leaves,
An autumn's breeze,
Shivers dance upon my spine,
In such a familiar way,
Flowing through each,
Delicate hair on my head.

I sip- I taste,
The sweet honey reminding me,
Of your lips along with,
The warmth of your hands,
Finding the perfect fit in mine,
The cool air on my breath,
The comfort of fall's finest treats,
Delicate pies,
Many memories,
Flood into my thoughts.

I sip- I dream,
Of unwritten poetry,
Of never ending love,
Real happiness that you,
Would see in God's arms,
Or in that old couple,
Interlacing bodies upon,
Our favorite bench,
Under two familiar oak trees,
With gnarled roots and branches,
Similar to the life we lead.

I sip- I wish,
For perfection in,
Important interests,
Strength in unnecessary,
And unusually or usually,
Difficult situations,
For love, joy,
Happiness, passion like,
We used to share.

I sip- I be,
The girl I am,
The writer in me,
The unspoken artist in,
Words and paintings,
The girl you loved,
A girl with dreams who,
Aspires to be successful,
While being free.
copyright © Deana Lightner 2009
Deana Ashley Skeen
Written by
Deana Ashley Skeen
694
     Tara Fear and D Conors
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