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Drops of gold In the stream Silver sold To my dream Drops of blood In the flood In motion Emotion. Grey temple Fine apple Delusion Illusion Pure bubbles Six shuttles To the door Of my moor Raw and rare Disrobed to The white air And for you. As the rhyme Plays with time Pushed aside Kept inside Vanishes Turned into A taboo For the night. I lay there By the pool Whilst my sphere Is spooling Speeding up Round and round Filling up The pale pond. As I freeze The soft breeze Of the thought I have fought! August 1, 2014
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Nov 13, 2017
Nov 13, 2017 at 8:53 AM UTC
Precious Pool
Drops of gold In the stream Silver sold To my dream Drops of blood In the flood In motion Emotion. Grey temple Fine apple Delusion Illusion Pure bubbles Six shuttles To the door Of my moor Raw and rare Disrobed to The white air And for you. As the rhyme Plays with time Pushed aside Kept inside Vanishes Turned into A taboo For the night. I lay there By the pool Whilst my sphere Is spooling Speeding up Round and round Filling up The pale pond. As I freeze The soft breeze Of the thought I have fought! August 1, 2014
Old poem Inspired by looking at a silver cup filled with water. Sterling silver, adorned by a squirrel
Appoline
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Nov 13, 2017
Nov 13, 2017 at 8:53 AM UTC
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