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Man Nov 2023
Love given, but not taken, is not love un-received;
You have love to give,
That is something.
Whether their heart is open
To the souls' hymns
Your words sing,
The song is never wasted-
But goes through changes,
As the renewal of spring.
Em Dec 2023
I settle on a seat distant from the world and my life
Here I observe the souls of those overcome with strife  
Settling on a bench sheltered with fallen flowers
from the shivers of trees recovering from nighttime terrors
Red plaid shorts damp beneath me
A book sprawled open on my lap watching with pure envy
as my eyes trace a phrase my mind is quickly trapped in
"its the truth even if it didn't happen"
I experience the sun blaze its rays down onto my thighs
Drawing crimson marks with my nails, I analyze
There's a strange sense of comfort in the burning sensation
The fear of not knowing what to expect consumes my self isolation
The unknown lingers in my mind, crimson now engrossed
I can always trust that the sunlight will never stop sizzling sunburnt skin
So instead of cursing the pain, I find it sublime
for it is the most secure I've felt in a long time
rewrite of a previous poem
mittened hands wrapped
around hot choc mugs
light-hearted bickering
over the tones and shades
of leaves yet to fall
chilly sun-streaked mornings
of fresh earthy air
and early hibernation nights
of gathered quietude
that indulgent autumn
for which she longed
seemed not to arrive
at least not as expected
set to follow the bright
bustling summer excitement
always written to precede
the forward-looking days
of winter's introspection
ordained as it was
by the dictums of old
those of time and tide
instead her blooming
has been a wearisome
back-and-forth between
the extremes of each
untimely and unexpected
yet unfortunately necessary
before she might witness
those flowers of hers
blossoming under
the warmth and light
of that newly shining Sun
let's meet on spring,
when everything else of me is alive.
but when the season of autumn appears,
will you also come and arrive?
when everything else of me is wilting,
will you also come and arrive?
Mark Wanless Sep 2023
young squirrels run on
spring grass fast just new life joy
exhilaration
Today I woke a happy fellow
Saw dancing daisies in the meadow
The sun was up to greet me so
With golden smile all aglow
Its rays of light of sparkling bliss
Did plant upon my cheek a kiss
Then wrapped me in warmful embrace
And set my beating heart apace
For springtime's grace has superseded
Savage winter which we heeded
Its colours blend a joyful soul
With heavenly palms we extol
The beautiful spring that whispers love
That fits my hand just like a glove
Today I am a happy fellow
Dancing daisies in the meadow
This was my 1st ever Print: Published in Cabin Fever Vol.3 Spring Fever Edition produced by Beth Callon. Argenta, British Columbia. (Settlement in Canada)

Beth can be found on Instagram @flowerpeoplefarm

Copyright Joshua Reece Wylie 2021
James Rives Sep 2023
what is the benchmark or minimum
for telling someone, "i love you,"?
how many i miss yous
and i wish you were heres are enough,
even minutes after parting?

whatever the number is, **** it.
because my heart remembers to beat
and even attempts to soar with you
to heights new, unfound, unseen.

where the chittering of nearby birds
is both foreign and kind comfort
in our hands;
where oranges and strawberries grow
in tandem, vine over vine, root over root,
and fall into us, sweet and kind and lovely.

if i were to say it too soon, i'm afraid
i'd lose you, your wit, your smile,
dumb jokes and blazing blue eyes.
and by withholding, i risk combustion,
and an end to it all the same.

i love you.
I have never felt a love like this. It's unique and pure but I worry that I'm stupid and easily tricked.
Today I walked to the park and back
And saw suburbia rearranged into dizzying distortions
All the trees had a purplish tint
And on the grass, I saw multicoloured light reflecting off the dew
When I got home
I attacked all the imagery with a dagger to reshape reality
And a blank mirror to recreate the world in my head.

The world that was quiet is humming again
I hear choirs of crickets and choral basslines
Cacophonous and ecstatic in the constant confusion
The dull concrete is shot open with marquee moonlight
Indulgence pouring out, free-flowing like communion
And painted onto canvases like rain on a car window
Daydreams and delusions are ice cream melting, sticky and sap-like on your chin
Clouds pixelate with diamond edges
Voices ring out in a flurry
And there isn't a soul in sight.

So I breathe in the air
And let all the sounds and smells and limitations of reality colour my imagination once again
Daydreamed delusions and nightmarish reality are one
Filaments in the vibrant violence
Until the summer fades away again.
spring is coming
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