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Paul Sands Jun 2015
the air seized it’s chance today screaming
“**** me!”
and every seed burst
obligingly in a torrent of stars and silken hope
yet a mere quarter hence
the deciduous mantle will slip, dowager dry and lentigo browned,
to dance tiny pirouettes with devils of dust & grit
amongst a litter of sepia confetti as summer’s rusted brides fall
their contract fulfilled
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In honour of all the cotton fluff filling the air today here’s a older reflection of a previous years event
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Amy H Mar 2015
A butterfly is beautiful until you feel you're sly,
moving close to touch her wings,
and then she may not fly.
But on her feet is magic that makes one flower,
two....
Disturbing the dainty butterfly
Means fewer blooms for you.
Wonder, gently.
I wrote this poem inspired by experience.  At the time I was reminded that my pop always used to say, "You can wonder and wonder, and you'll still never know."  I realized how much we hurt others when we make assumptions.
We the hidden, now exposed
I cannot find my home.

My dance is despair,
All is salt-sweet, where is she
Who calls the us, the we?

Why do I fly
And where do I go?

The here is a tangle of
Too much bright delight
I fall, I fly, it is un-right

Lost, alone, I spin
Imploding from within
I have what we need
But the others are not here

Wet comes
In bitter spurts
And I know fear
I am afraid.

I had no need to know of this
Going, I, alone
Wings rip each drip
Oh, I go

We the hidden, now exposed
I cannot find my home.
http://sos-bees.org/situation/
Kareena Mar 2014
If you be the flower
I am the bee
Drawn to your delightful mystery

— The End —