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Mark Toney Apr 2020
tiny fragile bud
clean prune cultivate nurture—
precious child blossoms


© 2020 by Mark Toney. All rights reserved.
4/1942020 - Poetry form: haiku - © 2020 by Mark Toney. All rights reserved.
Glenn Currier Feb 2020
My neighbor pruned his pear tree  
he did it with such deliberate care
for the load of summer fruit broke limbs
he waters and nurtures that tree so special to him.

Pruning lets in the sunlight and air
vibrant limbs and blossoms appear.
What can I prune for good health,
for light, love, and soulful wealth?
Patrick Feb 2020
I am a monster become self aware.
Aware of my nature, not changeable even with my heart laid bare.
I hoped love could save me; Help me escape.
But all it could do is hold the evil at bay.

We had good times; I gave my all for you. But slowly, but surely, the evil seeped through.
I'd become so bitter, so rotten within.
That even when I met my soul mate,
Love was doomed not to win.

I spewed my evil,
I traumatized my life.
She was everything to me,
And yet my tongue and actions cut like a knife.

I lost all control,
Or maybe regained it?
I don't know whether it was always like this,
Or if circumstance changed it.
My heart; was it always so cold and vile?
Was I always the one whom I hated and reviled?

She's gone now.
I only wish it had been sooner.
I can never mend the hurt that I have gifted upon her.
All she ever gave me was grace and love,
And I returned these blessings with poison and blood.
Yusof Asnan Feb 2020
There is always this flower,
Ever so beautiful, Ever so lovely.
A flower that grows just right for my soul;
But a flower in someone else's garden.

I'd water her,
Each time I passed her by.
She grows no thorns to my skin,
Delicate to her very core.

But as she is beautiful,
Often attract other passersby.
They too would try to nurture her;
And often too she would fall for them.

How could I even save a flower;
That was never mine in the first place?

-HIY
I've been away from writing for so long just simply because I was avoiding most interactions with my soul. but this flower made me want to feel. made me want to write countless thoughts about her.
Chase Pamplin Feb 2020
Don’t complicate the issue when a man says “I miss you”. Maybe it’s your essence, maybe it’s your presence. Yea we make mistakes but maybe it’s your motherly soul that was born into existence.

CP.
Men search for women that care for them like their mothers. We make not speak on it but it’s true. No one is going to love you like your mom. So if she cares for you and loves you the same way. That’s a blessing
Mae Feb 2020
He feeds my soul
Sings my song
Dances my rhythm
Paints my smile
From within
He sees me
Hears me
Plays my strings
Gently
He feeds my soul
Fiona Jan 2020
reminds me of you,
breathing life
into the trees.
rain drops
remind me of you,
nourishing flowers
and brightening grass.
you shine in the windows,
warming up someone’s soul,
waking up the passion of a soul.
you shower over souls,
cleaning them of dirt and sorrow.
 
you worked hard in the spring,
bringing life to decades of history,
passing down the jewels in your eyes.
you were relentless as a spring storm,
never stopping,
always nurturing the flowers in your life.
you payed close attention to the wilted,
the rotting, and the forgotten.
your gentle hands
healed the sick
and fed the hungry.
 
bright as sunlight,
you sung to those you loved,
knowing the importance
of saying those three words.
i always woke up happy to see you,
peeking in my windows,
and wrapping warm arms around
me when i was cold.
you baked me sweets,
marshmallows and peanut butter,
each bite warming my soul.
how could one ever be mad
at warmth that followed them
everywhere they went?
Nana.
It is difficult to understand
What separates you and I,
Perhaps you reached, but found no hand,
There must be more than meets the eye.

Deep chasms line the spectrum,
Like cliff faced faultlines of distance where there's none,
One slight of step, a little momentum,
And into an abyss beyond reach of the sun.

By nature, we are much the same,
Despite the nurtured deception,
I refuse the notion that I should shame
Still watered ripples of my reflection.
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