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Bhill Nov 9
The Rains Came...

the rains came in short, but lovely, bursts
clouds, that had been only skyward visitors, decided to weep
welcome, welcome rain from high up
come and fill our flowers cup
leave some moisture for us to keep
leave it while the desert sleeps
let it soak into the ground
giving up lifes nector, with nary a sound
the rains came in short, but lovely bursts....

Brian Hill - 2020 # 308
Bhill Oct 20
life is like a patchwork, of various scenes
like the quilt you had, filled with so many things
the colors were bright with patterns mixed up
there were even flowers, sitting in a bright cup
the squares and the shapes made it dizzy to see
they told you a story in patterns of three
life is like that quilt, of patches I suppose
you go, and you go, seeing what life has chose
you never realize what you're about to conceive
just patches of time is what life is, I believe...

Brian Hill - 2020 # 289
Bhill Sep 14
vast and impressive views saturate your existence
day to day they alter, shift and evolve
with open eyes, you will see
with eyes shut, you will feel
with emotion, you will desire
fill your cup with the sights unfolding before you

Brian Hill - 2020 # 253
Jenish Jul 14
success, a mirage
which opposition foretells;
till the time arrive
drink the cup of delusion!
Is life a void race to win?
Maria Mitea May 13
One little hand could not stop the cup from
dropping like a giant on the country wood floor,

“We need a cup factory in this home” I hear the voice of frowning walls

In a fraction of a second, I am the child that breaks the cup.

I want to hide when mother’s voice flows like a honey river
“Leave the child alone, don’t you see that the cup asks for mother’s love”

O,  broken cup filled with mother's love
on the country wood floor.
You loved the child,

“darling take the broom and clean the floor,
when walking no one gets hurt.
Let me know if you do need help”

Her soft voice makes the broom dance and sing, and
the wood floor clean, shining back love to all children that ever broke
the cup,

all we need for lifelong doves is a broken cup
glued with mother's love
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