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Salmabanu Hatim Jul 2018
A sudden downpour,
Showers,
Sitting upon the open window sill,
Joyful I feel,
As I sip hot coffee,
And crystal pearls of raindrops caress me.
Refreshing,
Exhilarating,
As more liquid drops sprinkle on the window pane,
Some splashes in my coffee to stain,
My top and jeans.
The gentle wind waltz in,
Intoxicating  my senses,
With the fragrance of scented roses,
Blooming outside on the terraces.
It moves the spirit in me,
A beautiful gracious morning to see.
Pitter patter of raindrops awake the sleeping leaves,
They rustle and tremble in the cool breeze,
Hungrily drink the drops of rain,
Whilst old leaves fall,
To mother earth,their stories to tell all.
Soon,the smiling sun peeps from
behind a cloud,
"Look!" The gardener's son shouts out loud,
A rainbow,
A klaiedescope of beauty I ever saw.
What a morning!
K Balachandran Jun 2018
soliciting wind,
Cheeky, trembling, flowered woods;
ecstasy explodes!
WeFeelFine Mar 2018
Twenty-six Letters,
                   Are universal symbols,
             Of Not only beautiful love,
  All that is Good,
    But also Ugly hate,
                  All that is evil.
     Infinity Gratefully accepts their company.
       At the Emission of such power,
                 
One Is unable to do anything but tremble at
The Sacred,
                              
Power of a Word.
One can not say that it is not
Wonderfully moving to posses this
 Earthshaking ability to release
 Rattling emotions
                              
                With only the arrangement of some lines on a surface.
"May God forgive me, but the letters of the alphabet frighten me terribly. They are sly, shameless demons - and dangerous! You open the inkwell, release them; they run off - and how will you ever get control of them again!" - Nikos Kazantzakis
Haruharu Oct 2017
A blank new page.

Staring, wondering.

What should my next chapter be?

Where do I go from here?

The blank pages have no answers.

The pencil is trembling in my hand.

I take a deep breath as I write

Now live.
Lost Boy Oct 2017
I wrote these songs for you,
The ones you won't hear..
The ones that torture me endlessly
When I pick up my guitar
And try to sing..
You made my most peaceful pastime
A pain, sweetheart..
For your voice
Still echoes in the distance
Of my fading chords
My heartbreak trembling within
How can I go back to music when my passion for it stemmed off of you?
tsel Sep 2017
if we walk together,
i will leave the hand
closest to you out
of my pocket in case
you want to hold it.

but i remember how you
told me you want to
feel up my thighs.
i will sit next to you instead
and place your hand on my thigh.

you make me tremble.
he says the wildest things.
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