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#eagles
If the Sun doesn't Shine If the Rain doesn't Pour If the Birds don't Sing And the Eagle doesn't Soar Then why am I still waiting!! FOREvermore!!! B.R. Date: 12/21/2022
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Aug 25, 2024
Aug 25, 2024 at 10:59 AM UTC
Untitled
Two ancient eagles often meet free and high, celebration dancing our death spiral or mating dance. Flying over this weeping willow forest lands we found Our white willow tree bark healing properties own salicylic acid relieving pains and inflammations.   Our beautiful pendular branches, the weeping willow trees of us, symbols of fertility are; out willow trees grow best by side roads by body of water rivers lakes, or ponds. And us special eagles, mate by the sea. And like us our willows of life attract scary snakes, but also birds bees butterflies, cocoons moths many diverse birds make a home in us. Our willow trees seem to hide a fertil sadness within. In our roots, creatures find habitat restauration erosion control and perfect ******** growth of 6 to 8 inches length. Our willow trees filter poisons grows quickly and live longer with a human touch like ours. Our weeping willow tree established root systems decontaminating water and soil. Raindrops drip down our leaves. My weeping is called pillow P****y willow tree. When our weeping tree grows largest it casts a grave size shadow and a family member goes supernovae or so it's written. Thank you my weeping willow tree, sweet poet mine for placing baby blankets under our weeping willow tree. Your invitation uncovered accepted loved and cherished eternally. To the one poet Sonnet 75 my True love, this one honors the day my smile captured thine heart, my weeping willow my everything beloved. ~~~ Inspired by a tree of life planted in my honor once upon a time. ~~~ By: Mr And Mrs Andrews
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Dec 16, 2023
Dec 16, 2023 at 1:57 AM UTC
Death Spiral or mating dance.
Two ancient eagles often meet free and high, celebration dancing our death spiral or mating dance. Flying over this weeping willow forest lands we found Our white willow tree bark healing properties own salicylic acid relieving pains and inflammations.   Our beautiful pendular branches, the weeping willow trees of us, symbols of fertility are; out willow trees grow best by side roads by body of water rivers lakes, or ponds. And us special eagles, mate by the sea. And like us our willows of life attract scary snakes, but also birds bees butterflies, cocoons moths many diverse birds make a home in us. Our willow trees seem to hide a fertil sadness within. In our roots, creatures find habitat restauration erosion control and perfect ******** growth of 6 to 8 inches length. Our willow trees filter poisons grows quickly and live longer with a human touch like ours. Our weeping willow tree established root systems decontaminating water and soil. Raindrops drip down our leaves. My weeping is called pillow P****y willow tree. When our weeping tree grows largest it casts a grave size shadow and a family member goes supernovae or so it's written. Thank you my weeping willow tree, sweet poet mine for placing baby blankets under our weeping willow tree. Your invitation uncovered accepted loved and cherished eternally. To the one poet Sonnet 75 my True love, this one honors the day my smile captured thine heart, my weeping willow my everything beloved. ~~~ Inspired by a tree of life planted in my honor once upon a time. ~~~ By: Mr And Mrs Andrews
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20
Let the tables turn, Lost & earned. Forcing our love apart. Let the eagles fly, Love denied... All seeking hearts to nest. Enraptured the dove, Claws mouthed shoved, There goes your nourishment. For nature is blamed, To share shame, Of the ones we lost most. Tables all to turn, What can earn?
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Dec 6, 2020
Dec 6, 2020 at 4:47 PM UTC
Tables to Turn
the ice downs your life downs as your appearance show how you lose stay up look at the ice white his having fare and loving here land he tells no death story that tells that life turns he wheel serves the man who suffers to be upper live as eagles who look down saying, creatures small as ants or live as hyena who eats corpse and smell worse
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Jan 4, 2020
Jan 4, 2020 at 12:52 AM UTC
the ice downs
I can soar on Eagle’s wings And see the wider view it brings My heart in happy triumph sings As I prosper daily I can see with keener eye From my vantage point on high I can bid my doubts goodbye As I prosper daily I can answer freedom's call And with my acts give help to all No true harm can my way fall As I prosper daily
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Nov 7, 2019
Nov 7, 2019 at 10:58 AM UTC
On Eagle's Wings (Prosperity Poem 55)
Celebrating victory for lots of millionaires means a whole whole lot when you can't afford to cut your hair Take the knee in protest it shows you really care while banking every dollar why you're paid to even be there The rhetoric and semantics complexities of words actions meant to mean something misconstrued distorted and/or blurred Let's gauge the effect what has been accomplished is life better now or is it all still just a wish
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Jun 6, 2018
Jun 6, 2018 at 8:28 AM UTC
Eagle fail
The miasma and the spectacle come, and yet, now gone another year of football dreams another winner, drawn Home to ol Liberty, the bell having hit the super high note apex of every football dream contracts to negotiate, and quote as is, with every team Sleep well, Dallas cowboys sweet dreams to Viking kings another year, football dreams of trophies, and the glories and not just, another ring
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Feb 5, 2018
Feb 5, 2018 at 8:01 AM UTC
Eagle Feathers
A dance in the flight ingenious a team snare at yip afield this fraught license overland altogether so nil in sides of play but torturous slide as mortals divisive incline to march afoot lawn
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Feb 5, 2018
Feb 5, 2018 at 6:28 AM UTC
Steppe
It's football night America no one, took a knee the day is done, we know who won Eagles, flying free It's football night, America no known controversies the game is set, never fret Patriots found, the key We'll know, when the dust settles just what, and who, will be living in America on football night we'll see
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Jan 21, 2018
Jan 21, 2018 at 10:13 PM UTC
Patriots VS Eagles SB LII
Eagle's flew out of the night something, too observe stretching, straining, every flight requiring, every, nerve The Vikings came, and went unable, to procure a win, a victory, tonight unable, too, endure We'll see, two weeks hence which symbol will surpass Eagles or the Patriots who is first, and who is last
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Jan 21, 2018
Jan 21, 2018 at 9:26 PM UTC
Eagles fly true
the road gathers itself like a drained old woman, hunched over rags, beneath the gloomy crag, sintering as it nears the beach, worn out through time, impoverished it has become reflective in the chittering half-light. Eviscerated by the pawing waves, contradictory cracks like entrails, hanging out crushed into solitude , it redefines its continuous retreat. In the reductive shade it circumvents the cove, its tarmac withered, a battered host to foreign weeds. Sunrise chides the posturing sky, the sulking universal remnants vanishing in the fenestrated glare. In the near distance, air unravels, the moving storm exhaling slips of cloud rapidly swarming like furious flecks of phlegm-sneezed out in perpetuity between heat and cold. The road lies entombed beneath a scree, tumbledown stones and dust. Ramblers and cars have sought and found an alternative route. The moistened rubble creaks as liquid gathers in its shifting heart, crawling out in rivulets-the rain descending like spit, emolliating the countryside, shifting dollops of fetid mud, enveloping like a furious aneurysm. Sea and land entrenched in conflict, a war of attrition always won by seas, unleashing energy of mindful apocalypse in the manner of a gentle sigh. The gaping abscess of scarred promontories tottering like feverish drunks. The mouthed obscenities of carnivorous birds radiates throughout the cove pinpointing local drownings encrusted with salt. Sea upon sea impose themselves enviously on rampant shorelines feasting on sand and rock. Never ending! Plunging ever forward like a barren plough, receding, only to re-site its casual fury-implosion upon explosion. The road in its sullen retreat stumbles through narrow valleys speckled with gloom; trees with yellow flowers blooming in crinkled shadows, deer leaping through high-standing grass, mincing between tall thin trees. Loping down into the cities, it becomes a tousled high street full of immigrants, all yearning for the sea.
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Jul 27, 2017
Jul 27, 2017 at 12:59 PM UTC
THE ROAD
the road gathers itself like a drained old woman, hunched over rags, beneath the gloomy crag, sintering as it nears the beach, worn out through time, impoverished it has become reflective in the chittering half-light. Eviscerated by the pawing waves, contradictory cracks like entrails, hanging out crushed into solitude , it redefines its continuous retreat. In the reductive shade it circumvents the cove, its tarmac withered, a battered host to foreign weeds. Sunrise chides the posturing sky, the sulking universal remnants vanishing in the fenestrated glare. In the near distance, air unravels, the moving storm exhaling slips of cloud rapidly swarming like furious flecks of phlegm-sneezed out in perpetuity between heat and cold. The road lies entombed beneath a scree, tumbledown stones and dust. Ramblers and cars have sought and found an alternative route. The moistened rubble creaks as liquid gathers in its shifting heart, crawling out in rivulets-the rain descending like spit, emolliating the countryside, shifting dollops of fetid mud, enveloping like a furious aneurysm. Sea and land entrenched in conflict, a war of attrition always won by seas, unleashing energy of mindful apocalypse in the manner of a gentle sigh. The gaping abscess of scarred promontories tottering like feverish drunks. The mouthed obscenities of carnivorous birds radiates throughout the cove pinpointing local drownings encrusted with salt. Sea upon sea impose themselves enviously on rampant shorelines feasting on sand and rock. Never ending! Plunging ever forward like a barren plough, receding, only to re-site its casual fury-implosion upon explosion. The road in its sullen retreat stumbles through narrow valleys speckled with gloom; trees with yellow flowers blooming in crinkled shadows, deer leaping through high-standing grass, mincing between tall thin trees. Loping down into the cities, it becomes a tousled high street full of immigrants, all yearning for the sea.
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41
I came at first to feel some dread When eagle wings rushed near my head His haste forced him to drop his prey Then move to branches overhead I thought for sure he’d come my way To find the prey he’d dropped that day But no bird came, the prey was lost And left for game to haul away The next day came a heavy frost The shallow creek could now be crossed The snow clouds pushed their blackness in Some broken trees an added cost When snowfall starts and calm begins I hear some chatter on the wind An eagle family settling in An eagle family settling in
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Mar 12, 2017
Mar 12, 2017 at 3:49 PM UTC
Neighbors
. Evergreen tree, Burning red bushels Of bark, branches open, Cloud robed against, beyond The mighty blue mountains, Sage colour, rages of green, Teems immortal as the sun, Where great eagles landing To nest in the towering Chapel of a giant body Adorn, what was always Regal, everlasting, true, Spiraling to the citadels Of the swirling heavens And even your crown, A thrusting spire.
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Dec 29, 2016
Dec 29, 2016 at 2:41 PM UTC
Sequoia
as they soar They course the winds and roam They care not for snow nor rain They make the clouds their home! Consider the badger in his den He worries not for gold He will fight till his last breath To defend his hole! Consider the lion and his pride They suffer want and lack But they care naught or give a thought They will be bouncing back! Consider the fish within his pool He worries not for drink He won't beware for lack of air He's stronger than we think! Consider the wildflower The bravely climbing rose She will, in gloom, put forth her bloom And cover trees in floes! Consider the canine! Consider the mighty horse! They don't amend the name of friend they're better ones of course! Consider kingdoms of the wild Do you find it odd? They worry not. Give nothing thought *They just depend on GOD*. SoulSurvivor (C) 1/19/2016
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Jan 19, 2016
Jan 19, 2016 at 3:54 PM UTC
Consider the Eagles
you can't hide your lyin' eyes and your smile is a thin disguise i thought by now you'd realise there ain't no way to hide your lyin' eyes.
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Jan 19, 2016
Jan 19, 2016 at 8:58 AM UTC
rip glenn frey
Evergreen tree, Burning red bushels Of bark, branches open, Cloud robed against, beyond The mighty blue mountains, Sage colour, rages of green, Teems immortal as the sun, Where great eagles landing To nest in the towering Chapel of a giant body Adorn, what was always Regal, everlasting, true, Spiraling to the citadels Of the swirling heavens And even your crown, A thrusting spire.
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Dec 27, 2015
Dec 27, 2015 at 5:49 PM UTC
Sequoia
Evergreen tree, Burning red bushels Of bark, branches open, Cloud robed against, beyond The mighty blue mountains, Sage colour, rages of green, Teems immortal as the sun, Where great eagles landing To nest in the towering Chapel of a giant body Adorn, what was always Regal, everlasting, true, Spiraling to the citadels Of the swirling heavens And even your crown, A thrusting spire.
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Jul 24, 2015
Jul 24, 2015 at 4:56 PM UTC
Sequoia
Pink bubbles Flow from the bathtub All sizes Yet the same Soaring like mighty eagles Then they just go POP!
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May 16, 2015
May 16, 2015 at 12:36 PM UTC
Pink Bubbles
Wouldn't you love to see An eagle on a park bench? He came down because he didn't want to be alone; High up in the skies he was alone. The eagle wept because he was afraid to fall. High up in the clouds with everyone below there would be no one to catch him. He knew his wings weren't as strong, as they said. The only thing holding him together is resolve. Wings break the same as hearts, So he would follow his tears down as they fell. To the park bench on a sunny day.
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Feb 17, 2015
Feb 17, 2015 at 5:31 PM UTC
the flight of the eagle with wavering wings
Evergreen tree, Burning red bushels Of bark, branches open, Cloud robed against, beyond The mighty blue mountains, Sage colour, rages of green, Teems immortal as the sun, Where great eagles landing To nest in the towering Chapel of a giant body Adorn, what was always Regal, everlasting, true, Spiraling to the citadels Of the swirling heavens And even your crown, A thrusting spire.
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Dec 26, 2014
Dec 26, 2014 at 3:35 PM UTC
Sequoia