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 Dec 2016 SE Reimer
Mike Essig
on poetry*

A poem is only a mouthful of air
until it is read.
Imagine it. Craft it carefully
from your heart's flesh.
Seal it in a bottle
of clear, pure words.
Set it adrift on
the ocean of time,
life's restless surge,
until a few congruous spirits
pluck it from the sea-wrack
and recognize a message
that illuminates their souls.
Readers find writers;
never the opposite.
 Dec 2016 SE Reimer
wordvango
I
 Dec 2016 SE Reimer
wordvango
I
might not get the numbers
but I sure do get quality of viewers,
I admire all of you
who by their names
are quality
and I have watched you do
good things
and take a minute
, even if not noticed or qualified ,
to make someone down
feel better
to those I say
I just love you
and your hearts!
A group of black clouds
gathered,
they had come to be together -
for the blue sky, had sadly,
just passed away,

The Sun
switched its warm,
radiant, bright light off -
paying respect to the memory
of another lost,
perfect Summer's day.

Heaven's gates stood
with arms wide open,
Heaven
flooded the grounds
below
with heavy,
warm tears of rain,

Upon these warm tears stopping,
A delightful,
sensationally bright,
hope-filled, 
glowing rainbow
miraculously came forth -
A sign
that Summer's rain—Heaven's warm tears,
were not, at all, in vain.

By Lady R.F ©2016
 Dec 2016 SE Reimer
Mike Hauser
I had this poem
I'd been working on
All about forgetfulness

Then made the mistake
Of setting it down one day
Now I've no idea where it is

I've looked out, I've looked in
All the places that I'd been
On this endless search to find

I've looked high, I've looked low
Places I frequently would go
In the hopes of jarring this simple mind

Because this poem if it's found
Might just turn my thoughts around
Though I can't remember why that is

So in this quest I'll continue on
In the search of the poem
That I wrote about forgetfulness
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