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Paul Jones May 2017
The wet, basalt sands      sing songs with the light,
mirrors the spirit      of a starry night.
21:15 - 10/05/17
State of mind: joy, comfort.

Thoughts: from memories - walking along black sands combined with Blake's line's 'to see a world in a grain of sand...'.

Question: Light and sound are both waves. We talk about composing music with sound. How can we make music with light?
Raghu Menon Apr 2017
Its a  beautiful day
Wet and cool and moist day
it was just a dream!
It is too hot, but I wished it is a rainy day!!
Poetic T Apr 2014
I have shed a rain cloud of
                                Tears,
you gave me an emotional
               Umbrella
To keep Me dry,
from my down pour of tears...
Tony Luxton Mar 2017
We're weary and wet,
trowelling through the muck,
looking for ancient bones,
cold as skeletons.

The earth gives up its ***** old men,
bequeathing their remains -
bog people, trog people,
pongy gaping gob people -
most likely Angles and Saxons.

At least they have their own ***** old women,
and don't try to rattle our women's bones.
Scarlet Rose Feb 2017
Pit-pat goes the rain
Falling all around.
From under my umbrella
I watch it hit the ground.

Splish-splash go the puddles
As I come stomping through.
My boots keep me nice and dry,
And my umbrella too.

Outside it's wet and drippy
As rain falls from the sky,
But underneath my umbrella
I stay cozy and dry.

And though the sky is cloudy
And the sun has hidden her face,
Under my own little umbrella
I have a happy, pleasant place.
It's raining today and I seem to have lost my umbrella...
Lady Bird Feb 2017
absorbing comprehension
so sweet like red wine
yet surprised by your wet kiss
Graceopher Mills Jan 2017
The angry words
Rain down on me
A violent
Downpour on a
Kid who's afraid
Of getting wet
K G Jan 2017
You're like a necessary drug
Repeatedly pumping in my veins
Occupying your borrowed space
I embrace, I cage myself within
Vowing never to drift out & in
After the moment with you
Stepping on your toes
My feet are dizzily heaving
Squeaky clean denim jeans
Become filthy wet strings
Even though I aim to please
I just mess up these things
KG
elizabeth Jan 2017
Reading through your beautiful words,
My tears begin to fall.
Sloppy, wet, all over my desk;
I'd never let anyone see me this way.
Because when I'm like this,
There isn't anything you can do.
I'm feeling too much at this point,
And you may as well just leave me alone.

Reading your lovely words,
My tears are now streaming.
Drenched, sopping, my shirt is soaked;
I'd never let anyone see me this way.
Because when I'm like this,
Even I can't do anything.
I'm overwhelmed at this point,
And I may as well not even try to stop.

Reading your sweet words,
My tears are pouring down.
Flooded, sloshing, my room is filled.
I'd never let anyone see me this way.
Because when I'm like this,
I can't breathe, and my head spins.
I'm falling in love with every word,
And I may as well keep reading.
December 31, 2016.
I've fallen in love with every single one of your poems. Please never stop writing, Star.
The Napkin Poet Dec 2016
Moisture permeates the air, a wet haze.
Stillness with anticipation, or tension.
Fresh air containing an aroma.
Natural and earthly,
Like giving into original temptation.

Through the fog she awaits my consumption.
Her taste lovely, like if love had a flavor.
An oozing box of sweet glaze, stands within a wet haze.
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