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Jac 7d
‘’we should live on mars”
she said
the boy turned to face the other
saw the stars in her eyes
and swore the girl was worth more
than the days and nights combined

“where even the fairies can’t find us”
she continued
the boy looked up at the sky
that had long turned dark
over the moon he was for her

the two young sat on the hill
covered in pink
in their own little world
and the boy softly held her hand
Perdue Poems Apr 10
Green blue
Soft brown
Pearl white
I'm brOKen Apr 3
Bending grass and rolling hill
Caress my palms and make me still
Essence of the floras' ester
Tickle my nostrils; nose and pester
Nettie Mar 30
A lonesome swordsman
Stands on a hill
Watching the village
Where nothing is still

No quiet moment
No crowdless street
No content beings
Nothing unaccounted for

Except the man
On the hill
For he knows one thing
That will

One pair of eyes unseeing
One pair of legs not moving
One pair of hands, useless
One heart not beating

The devil-reaper
On the hill
Looks to one broken home
And finds his ****
Thanks for reading!
Rain Feb 17
It’s a city from the outside,
Shining on a hill
But from the inside looking out
It’s just another jail
It sometimes feels like the city walls are pressing in, suffocating me, but I can’t leave, at least not yet. Soon, though, I’ll be leaving; soon... I just have to remember to breathe long enough to get there.
Pagan Paul Feb 10
Do you remember when time stood still
skipping *****, happy, upon Spring Hill?
Warm westerlies, do rebirth dominate,
brushing the flowers, each one to pollinate.

Do you remember when time stood still
running *****, joyful, upon Summer Hill?
Hot south wind, sun growth it gifts,
providing life, as Nature's head it lifts.

Do you remember when time stood still
walking *****, tired, upon Autumn Hill?
Cool easterlies, the harvest to reap,
just preparing, waiting, for the annual sleep.

Do you remember when time stood still
laying *****, spent, upon Winter Hill?
Chill north wind, the snows to bring,
patient listening, to the universe sing.

Do you remember when time stood still
exposed and ***** upon Season's Hill?
No rain, no sun, no wind nor breeze,
could disturb the silence of the Trees.

© Pagan Paul (2019)
Poetress2 Jan 4
There are numerous, wicked men,
who are nothing more than fiends;
And each one of them work,
in a place known as D. C.
Each morning they will donn,
their expensive, silky suits;
To see just how much damage,
these brood of snakes can do.
Then off to work they'll go,
with a smirk upon their face;
They call themselves, "Successful,"
I call them a "Disgrace."
These vile creatures of habit,
will vote on "Do-Nothing Bills;"
That will serve to weaken our Country,
upon that treacherous Hill.
Then home to their cozy Mansions,
they'll return at the days' end;
Daring to call us their, "Leaders,"
daring to call us their, "Friends."
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