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stopdoopy Apr 2021
Warm little kisses
To freezing finger tips
Are like burns to me

Why don't You run
Why are You here
What do You want


They do their job perfectly
Thawing out this heart
Making me pliant


What do You need
What is It
What am I to you

Unable to do anything
Limp for your hands
Aching for a touch

Would You break my heart too?
Non descript hedge rows sculpted into ornamental animal 
via botanical artist wielding pruning shears and chain saw 
carved, limned and sculpted with wrist wrought voila uber
prestidigitatiously head turning botanical picturesque Sun
kist animals at an exhibition transformed miraculously via 
Te Deum divine fist bumping, whence realistic fauna burst 
alive with an explosion of colorful twist and shout of foliage,
 
where scalloped superfluous detritus manna for naturalist
deciduous detritus capacious carpet boar animation punk
chew waiting groundswell Liszt ghost would arise from the 
grave to produce magnum opus without a beat missed such 
shrubbery mimicking likeness sans glistening fleshy sin
yew, and gist about ready to become bone a fide (green be
hind ears) thriving vox populist, per species and genus 

wrought thrashing into birth as delicate craftsman promised
to imbue life, liberty and pursuit of happiness whittling away 
leavings, thus did exist the nascent then omnipresent visible 
entity emerging from cocoon an herbalist metamorphosed 
from the imagination of a skilled, practiced and mentalist 
conniver viz extracting the initially obscure blessed beast, 

where with august magic wielding tools of this specialty vis 
a vis bringing breathing manifest destiny ala Pinocchio (trans
formed from wood to flesh), whereby finest dexterous 
chiseling blistering hands baffle onlookers as coterie of 
topiary harvest breaths mind bogglingly astoundingly 
authentic rooted ready to frolic in grass menagerie, 

a gamesome group of linkedin live progeny, the Michel
Angelo of dirtiest canvass, an earthen tabula rasa of sorts 
where application threshing re: electric cool laid ahs hid 
test brings out chlorophyll doppelganger green hued key luster.
Dhaye Margaux May 2014
I stand with pride, I know it all
Though you can see, I bow, I fall
Whenever wind whispers my name
I bend my knees but stay the same

Whatever life would offer me
I will accept but I'm still free
I know how odd, it's like a game
I bend my knees but stay the same

The joy life brings would make me smile
Though sadness gazes for a while
When there's a will, just keep the flame
I bend my knees but stay the same

When sorrow's there to walk with me
Eyes are open to let me see
I'll still walk through yet like a lame
I bend my knees but stay the same

When sunbeam's there to scorch my skin
I wouldn't runaway or shin
I'll walk with pride but not with fame
I bend my knees but stay the same

When rain is there to stay with me
I'll never cry for I can see
It comes to heal, care for my name
I bend my knees but stay the same

That's how I live, how strong I am
Though storms may pass, though troubles come
I am still me, I'm on my frame
I bend my knees but stay the same.
Kyrielle
A Kyrielle is a French form of rhyming poetry written in quatrains (a stanza consisting of 4 lines), and each quatrain contains a repeating line or phrase as a refrain (usually appearing as the last line of each stanza). Each line within the poem consists of only eight syllables. There is no limit to the amount of stanzas a Kyrielle may have, but three is considered the accepted minimum.

Some popular rhyming schemes for a Kyrielle are: aabB, ccbB, ddbB, with B being the repeated line, or abaB, cbcB, dbdB.

Mixing up the rhyme scheme is possible for an unusual pattern of: axaZ, bxbZ, cxcZ, dxdZ, etc. with Z being the repeated line.

The rhyme pattern is completely up to the poet.

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