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You look at them,
        I look at you,
                our thoughts light-years apart.
But I will whisper,
        in your ear,
                in hope to change your heart.
You think of them and evening dress,
                the candles,
                                silverware.
I think of only,
        you and them,
                I close my eyes to dare.
You put them on,
        they touch your skin,
                you turn and ask me “See?”
I want to burst,
        in billion pearls,
                and let you swim in me.
To my Anabella
A litte bird
trapped in a golden cage,
fed with precious jewels,
diamonds and pearls.
Had everything
anyone could ever ask,
except for one thing
she can never have.
--- Freedom.
Azurel Mata Feb 7
Running along the precipice of joy
Clouds of seagull feathers
Stuck between my toes
Her salty blush
Flushed across my lips
Living breathing divinity
Right at my fingertips
Heart of gold crashing on the reef
Seaweed leaves swaying in her eyes
Waves lapping at her curls
Watching as her wild unfurls
Lighthouse in my storm
Stay with me
Oh untamed beauty
Stay with me
Deep sea of pearls
I cast my pearls before a blind man.
I assumed he could appreciate my open hand.
Some share diamonds
   with blind men scorpions.
Assuming they are worthy champions.
Poets offer gifts freely at broad doors.
Usually these are doors that can't understand metaphors.
Poor hearts some just can't relate.
They can't consume a healthy poetic plate.

There are those that will say speak plainly to me.
Keep it easy and elementary.
But for a poet there's revelation in the mystery.
Often we feel they just don't get me.
The less you read write learn or explore..
The less you want to dive into the brains deep shores.
I could give you a plain white flower.
Or I can decorate it give it colorful power.
If you don't understand the reasons.
That there are beautiful things in all the seasons.
And how every dish has its flavors.
How every emotion is relevent enhanced with its vapors.

Then I will just have to understand..
and pull back my gifted hands.

I'll give you a 1 and not a 2..
I'll give the less and let that do for you.
I'll keep my poetic expressions.
You'll not slander my word therapy notations.

My gifted juicy stories.. will be like vibrant leaves.
Bouncing freely on strong big trees.
Ready for the picking,
for those that love reaching.
Those that love climbing.
Those that love giving, sowing, planting and achieving.
We all will keep glowing in sunlight..
Rays of knowledge colorful simmering delight.

Yes sometimes we try to share some sunshine..Even with the blind..
Some chose to stay blind.
But if you could get to feel the light.
Would you still put up such a fight.
Poetic liberty is justice for me..It sets the captive free.
Poetic Therapy is soulful,
bringing every emotion possible.
Poetry..
Unveils or conceals situations of lifes mystery.
By SelinaSharday..2019..S.A.M
casting of pearls
marion Jan 2
love,
a funny thing
so uncertain
yet so promising

your gift
is but a paperweight
atop a dresser

meant as a promise:
you wouldn't make
the same mistake
again

another chance,
a retake.

yet it sits,
meaningless

pearls won't fix
how my heart aches

your love
was never really there

was it.
one of the best ways to heal is to write about it and move on.
Nathalie Nov 2018
Doves cooed at morning dawn

Encapsulated in pure light

Every spark of brightness

Magnified the blades of grass

Shining with pearls of dew


Trees swayed, keeping

Their majestic presence

As the wind ruffled

Their leaves, a medley

Of beauty and colour


Rustling brook sang

Merrily as it met

With the riverbank

In gushes of

Ebbs and flow


Nature’s bounty

Becomes it's own reward

For everyone who

Appreciates and rejoices

In celebration and song

Of our world’s harvest



~Nathalie
TheMystiqueTrail Sep 2018
A comely rainbow
spanning the wet, sobbing sky;
colours showering
mesmeric pearls of teardrops on earth.

Many subtle shades of marvel
unfolded that day.

Elegance of burning splendour in sun’s soul -
earth treasuring the seed of the first rain
in its **** for a new birth -
Spring’s svelte fingers
painting brilliance across the droning vale -
mist of radiance of a gorgeous moon -
stars sparkling to a melody
flowing from the divine harp -
sea breeze carving
shifting sculptures on sands of gold -
amorous mirth of sea waves
rushing to the hug of a waiting shore.

I stood there,
a trance benumbing my senses
to an hypnotic bliss.
Esther Aug 2018
Like pearls
Rolling down the landscape
That is my face
Up and down
Speeding up
Slowing down
Giving eachother a chance
To catch up
An endless race
Where nobody wins
Lyn-Purcell Aug 2018
~ ⚘ ⚪ ⚘ ~
Though glass, it is rimmed with gold
around the cup, handle and even the
saucer. Skilfully painted chrysanthemums
  of various shades; the vermilion horizon,
Spring's honey, songbird's magenta,
sangria's fine wine, a parakeet's breast
and the Aegean sea.

~ ⚘ ⚪ ⚘ ~
And then, there are three sightly tea
caddies with lacquered wooden bodies;
one rosewood with red dancing fans,
one burr-oak with golden mountainous
landscape and one maple wood with
green bamboo. Ainhana gently removes
each of their lids by using the cloth, and
presents the pearls that were wrapped
in sun-kissed foil.

~ ⚘ ⚪ ⚘ ~
She first lifts the rosewood caddy towards
me. I close my eyes and focus on the scent.
Without peeling back the foil, I know. It takes
me to the far distant Province of Yunnan,
past the snow-kissed mountains and rice
terraces to a very still lake. I noticed that
it began to bubble before a large splash
rose.

~ ⚘ ⚪ ⚘ ~
At that moment, I meet the lake's Guardian,
the Imperial Wingless Dragon of legend.
With its wet emerald-kissed scales drinking
the sunlight. It's great body now entwined
in a wispy clouds as it stares at me with
eyes of liquid moons. Its tail crowned
with a peacock feathered eye-spot whips
around in the air, leaving an iridescent
trail of colours.

~ ⚘ ⚪ ⚘ ~
With a great leap, he soars through
the air, trumpeting his great roar
that rattles the skies. Just as quickly
as he rose, he descends down with
a Pearl Moon in his brown claw. By
the ****** of its sienna-brown whisker,
the small Moon cracks, presenting me
it's contents, a long kept secret.

~ ⚘ ⚪ ⚘ ~
The pearls are the colour of seaweed
with streaks of yellow and burnt umber.
With earthy notes whirls around my
nose, along with some floral sweetness,
burnt caramel licks, dragon spice and
a wisp of apricot. Ah, so I see! One great
guarded secret that he reveals to me!
His best pearls ferment in the ****
of the Moons! Purified by the Star
Virtues of Elysia's Harmony!

~ ⚘ ⚪ ⚘ ~
'Wonderfully rich Pu-erh Pearls,'
I say, my eyes now open.
'My Lady's nose is as sharp as ever!'
'I just know my tea,' I chuckle, 'it's
very unique in smell and taste.  I will
save such fine broth for another day.'
Ainhana nods, places on the tray and
lift the burr-oak caddy. I close my
eyes once again and my mind
wanders yet again.
~ ⚘ ⚪ ⚘ ~
Part four of my Jasmine Pearls poem.
(a re-post of my re-post! What's going on with HP, seriously?)
After it's confirmed that this is seen by others, I'll add it to the collection of the same name.
Thanks for 149 followers btw! You rock! ^-^
Lyn ***
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