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 Oct 2015 Sana
Marian
In a dreamy woodland
There's a cottage just for me
And it's waiting there now
Beside a peaceful stream
Where quiet maples grow
And deer are not afraid
Where mushrooms grow in sweet silence
And sunlight glistens amongst the leaves
There's an enchanted cottage
Hidden in those shady woods
Where running cedar
And lady ferns intertwine
Where tears never fall
From any eye
That is where my secret abode
Is found in shadowy canopy
Of sun-dappled trees
Where dewdrops passionately kiss
The demure bluebells
Where breezes whisper
Through tall, swaying pines
And rustle ancient autumn leaves
From many seasons ago
Where time stands still
And woodland fairies dance
Where willow harps are played
Echoing in dreamy breezes
Through the trees and dancing through the air
Waltzing with the butterflies
Touching the lemon citrus sun
With fingers of gold
And spring days bygone
That's where you'll find me
Dreaming riparian
Scent of petrichor
Healing my soul
In summer woodland yonder

*~Marian~
Written: September 3, 2015, Around Midnight.
Hope You All Enjoy It!!! :)
 Oct 2015 Sana
Ocean Blue
Her sublime arrow
Has hit me
On the left side,
An attack by my douce amie,
I would not hide...
D. for Doctor
Please tell me
Is it serious or
Is it going to **** me?
No, she says, this would be too easy...
Look, your heart
Will bleed,
It is going to hurt,
Whatever you did.
And whenever you think it's gone
It will come back again,
On and on,
Your life time sweet pain.
 Oct 2015 Sana
Michael Dougherty
Walking in the rain she told me
Hold on to the better things
Funny when the better things
Talk about the better things
New weather
Now I'm wishing I could do better
It's a trend setter for the
Up-and-coming go-getter
Now I'm on the train
No one has a song to sing
Looking at their phones
Waiting for a ring
Ghost vibrations haunting
Pockets of the less patient
Time for restart
Time for back to basics
Admittedly I'm falling into that category
Remember last November?
You said it's better for me
The leaf colors always try to teach a lesson
Paying for mistakes
When I should have paid attention
 Oct 2015 Sana
Terry Jordan
Nomad

In a time of faint beasts, no room
is left in the boats. With thin hands,

we huddle sheep and dip a hundred
reeds in mud. The nets wheel away

so often now, sinking through days
poured furious over threshing feet.

As though dared in a foreign tongue
to knot our sleeves, we swim through

broken oars, shout off slender days.
Snakes may cling to trees, and men

tear at bread, but the sky stays hinged.
Only heaven is full of furniture.

We harness ourselves over and over,
wherever hope is a yellow shore.
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