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 Mar 2015 Sarah Michelle
Tryst
The bird has flown far far from home
where none will ever find her;
she left behest a vacant nest,
and crumbs as a reminder
of all the things her mighty wings
have borne of her creation,
and now she's gone to fly anon
and left a ruination

Far far from home the bird has flown
and time is ever fleeting,
a vacant nest she left behest
in silence of her beating
her mighty wings; of all the things,
she knows the sheer elation
to fly anon, and now she's gone
to seek her own salvation
What can I say?
Already, there are
Flying lanterns,
Falling stars,
Fireflies and all
Incendiaries
In her eyes,
What can I say,
Or cannot love?
Or what movement of breath,
Of mouth,
Can go against
The movement
Of the lips?*

© 2015 J.S.P.
Draft.
Can I have a word, please?
It can be any word.
Just give me a word.

We can all share the rest.
Just let me have one.
It can be anything.
I'd take canteen or avid.
I'd even settle for timely.

But you can't use my word,
whatever it is,
without asking.
Because it's my word.

And I'll almost always let you use it when you ask.
Unless, for example, my word is wonderful
and you want to use it to describe a movie I haven't seen yet
or a movie I saw already and didn't care for.

I really want everything.
That's my first choice.
Flabbergasted is a close second.
Loosen the strings
Attached to the world
Full of misery and darkness
Unbind the heart
Let free the soul
Unbounded spirit
Soars beyond happiness
Something extraordinary
Boundaries do not hold
Living the essence of free
Felt all over the being
Nothing but free spirited
When you loosen the strings
[10W]


two spoons we lie
silver paradise
in my lover's arms**


soulsurvivor


--((--
you                                pour
out feelings                   to her, I wish
you would see me, I know we share the
same gift I need someone like me
to talk to you're perfect
yet you pretend
not to
see
 Mar 2015 Sarah Michelle
S R Mats
Like a chorus of angels singing slightly off key
In the chilly morning it builds as the sun rises.
Some mystery passes from one to the next, silent.
Just how, who can say? Their bodies lift in unison.
There is nothing awkward about them.  Poetry!
I was quite unprepared for the glorious spectacle.
Thousands.  Like watching a ballet of slow wing beats.
7000 miles they follow their heritage of millenniums;
And they rest upon the banks of this river.
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=DEkwIvS_PP8&feature;=youtu.be
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