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#idyllic
_They flicker— petals plucked from unseen gardens, their colors bleeding into the hush of the sky. A whisper of lilac, of crushed gold, of rain-drenched sapphire, they spiral like forgotten prayers._ Underneath the aching hush of dusk, the butterfly’s wings shimmer like glass about to break— __fragile, too fragile,__ as if beauty was never meant to last. Mist hums in the hollow between trees. The meadow, once a cradle of light, now wilts into sighs, its perfume dampened with grief. _And still they rise, a shiver of soft rebellion, a trembling hymn against the dimming world._ Each beat of wing, _a memory unmade,_ a soft ache threading through twilight veins, leaving ghost-lit trails in the evening’s failing breath. Perhaps this is how paradise fades— not with fire, but with the slow, silver drowning of wings too heavy with dreams.
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Apr 26, 2025
Apr 26, 2025 at 6:03 PM UTC
When Wings Weep
A sultry wind surges o'er the Mediterranean. Rosy fingered dawn wakes the world, As I habitually walk the lonely path to labor. A melancholy song sounds from the barley field. Hypnotized, I follow through undulating grain, Which lithely tosses back and forth in dance. ‘Neath a willow, amongst the barley, sits a girl, Garbed in a white tunic, playing her angelic harp. Her hazel hair weightlessly sways in the wind. Her olive toned fingers pluck with mastery. Nobility marks her solemn dark brows, That sit atop commanding, umber eyes. The harp's supple bends are a tribute To the lady's long limber figure, As she directs wind and waves by ballad. She looks up from her earthen dais, Eyes aglow with a playful, sultry look. Pierced by her gaze, I awake... With her, my wife, beside me.
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Sep 24, 2021
Sep 24, 2021 at 3:12 PM UTC
The Dream Woman
Take me to the crystal rivers that flow with calm pristine diamond torrents that glow. Take me to where all seasonless yields grow from the effortless hands of men who sow. Take me to lands of neither high nor low, where equality reigns with none below. I see meadows lush that men do not mow. I see people who do not toil for dough, with minds innocent, and without a foe, beaming with smiles radiant that overflow. In gardens green where sorrow does not show, kindness is what all men their neighbours owe. For all men do not accusations throw at their neighbours calm who vice do not know. Where each man with a cheerful heart says hello!
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Apr 8, 2021
Apr 8, 2021 at 4:53 AM UTC
Take me to Heaven or Eden's Garden
Feelings, Shown— Feelings, Grown. I can’t help but to                                 fall in awe                                                    with her                                                                    idyllic astonishment; like how the moonbeam shines its ray to lit up the darkened night sky amongst all the unrest souls in their                                                                 (not so)                                                                                blissful slumber. I beg your pardon, m'lady— for I have mistaken your                                               b e a u t y                                                                    for                                                                    Misconstrued Paraselene.
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Dec 15, 2020
Dec 15, 2020 at 2:28 PM UTC
Misconstrued Paraselene
Even now, the gardens of our past refurbish themselves in the heat of my ongoing halt against time. Perhaps for someone like me, idyll glimpses of love reside only in the solitude of lyricism, open windows, those comatose streetlights, and the interstate of dreams.                                            —
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Dec 20, 2018
Dec 20, 2018 at 3:36 PM UTC
someone like me
the sound of the highway outside whispers through this rain-tapped glass: quiet and fleeting and constant, so like wind and rain and nature, ebbs and flows, soothes with those highs and lows and breaks— with no telling when it will end, just a rhythm like sleepy breaths, a lullaby in the making i prefer this noise to silence outside my window in that dark; a vast world alive and vibrant while i slip into muted dreams
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Oct 1, 2018
Oct 1, 2018 at 6:50 PM UTC
Sound of the Highway
The uneatable is a mirage to those thirsty for an oases of dream like delusions. For nothing is waiting, Its only now that we see idyllic reflections. There aren't steps but a mirage of what our lives were. Every step is our creation to others dreams. That we help with, our every reflection is there's to strive for...
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Jun 18, 2018
Jun 18, 2018 at 5:39 PM UTC
A Mirage Of Steps
a Miduri ring that squat for him and tell members it'll save their souls while attacks on democracy increase in the land as this prosperity gospel spreads without central control yet Operation Canaan probe.
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Apr 15, 2018
Apr 15, 2018 at 6:19 PM UTC
Operation Canaan
"My roots run deep hearn' these Green Mountains of Vermont. " All Rights Reserved © 2016 Ma Cherie
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May 30, 2016
May 30, 2016 at 11:42 PM UTC
My roots 10W
her eyes are oceans of silence let me drift there for a lifetime of moments without care let me know what its like to drown in sweet beauty let me live the quiet life in her heart and delve into the silken smooth wine of her voice while i let her lips ****** me why am i so lost without hope of her why must i know this idyllic life in her arms the sugar of her heart is salty and bittersweet but oh to taste her presence perfumed and subtle soft skin her eyes are an ocean of silence bathe in her perfect perfections lay in the cool waters of her sweet heart live the quiet life of her her
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Nov 15, 2014
Nov 15, 2014 at 8:12 AM UTC
oceans of silence
Idyllic love poems wander the hills with a pining goat herd playing his pipe and singing mournful song echoing down the quartz sculpted gorge beneath waterfalls where alabaster-skinned Naiads lithe and languorous bathed in crystal brooks. Romantic poems lounge on sofas breathless wearing corsets and crinolines desperate and untouched ********* strands of hair John Donne’s love poems are wet with wit.
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Sep 12, 2014
Sep 12, 2014 at 9:14 AM UTC
Poems and Love
Please don't tell me that you've always been in love with me and that you will always have these feelings for me I don't buy that Please don't call me at 4am with heart felt messages in a drunken state I won't buy that Please don't chase me when I run away from you, when I desert you halfway through dinner and scream hellbent 'I love you's' at me across the street I shan't buy that Please do understand, that I am faithful to no-one, that I am capable of nothing, save destruction and that I do not buy into the ideals of love, into anything more than ***** fuelled hook-ups and faible, fiery passion.
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Aug 4, 2014
Aug 4, 2014 at 8:09 PM UTC
Please don't
Much have been said About my brother Flame How from his hands Borne both Creation And destruction Songs were sung About trivial flickers And infernos legendary Allow me to say My piece about My brother flame Flame Words seems lifeless Next to your colored streaks Hearths spark Red Candles shine Yellow Blue Is the burn from my oven Life is borne From your touch Embers glow at your grasp Metal refined from your speech The world itself Is teeming in life For the sun Looks down upon it In its heart You My brother flame Burn brightest Fire Is the element of change You burn from the tears Of the oppressed You blaze from the verses Of the revolutionary Artists, lovers, and dreamers Their eyes burn With passion Your disposition My brother has never been cold My Sister Wind You warm her With your embrace Shed her chains and give her wings That she may fly Full of grace Brother flame You are a legend May bards sing forever Your songs How you cradled the Phoenix In its death And herald its birth From the same ashes it came from How you fled with Prometheus From Olympus And sparked the dreams of men You are a perfect instrument Of God’s glory and renown After heaven denied Earth Rain Elijah’s offer you consumed On Horeb Moses Have seen you burning A lonely bush You’ve shown this lonely shepherd He was standing on Holy Ground And on God’s plan Much have been said About my brother flame My piece reveals Of those I am certain These three Life Passion Renown 12:27:08.03:23
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Apr 29, 2014
Apr 29, 2014 at 1:06 PM UTC
**Ode to Brother Flame**
Much have been said About my brother Flame How from his hands Borne both Creation And destruction Songs were sung About trivial flickers And infernos legendary Allow me to say My piece about My brother flame Flame Words seems lifeless Next to your colored streaks Hearths spark Red Candles shine Yellow Blue Is the burn from my oven Life is borne From your touch Embers glow at your grasp Metal refined from your speech The world itself Is teeming in life For the sun Looks down upon it In its heart You My brother flame Burn brightest Fire Is the element of change You burn from the tears Of the oppressed You blaze from the verses Of the revolutionary Artists, lovers, and dreamers Their eyes burn With passion Your disposition My brother has never been cold My Sister Wind You warm her With your embrace Shed her chains and give her wings That she may fly Full of grace Brother flame You are a legend May bards sing forever Your songs How you cradled the Phoenix In its death And herald its birth From the same ashes it came from How you fled with Prometheus From Olympus And sparked the dreams of men You are a perfect instrument Of God’s glory and renown After heaven denied Earth Rain Elijah’s offer you consumed On Horeb Moses Have seen you burning A lonely bush You’ve shown this lonely shepherd He was standing on Holy Ground And on God’s plan Much have been said About my brother flame My piece reveals Of those I am certain These three Life Passion Renown 12:27:08.03:23
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Northern wind Gentle wind You came unseen But I need not doubt You are here I close my eyes I feel your passing Invisible arms Sweeping Over mountains and plains Trees wave Flowers bow At the touch of your fingers You breathe life on creation Each morning And whisper dreams Each day’s passing Wind Northern wind You may have been the river’s cousin For in you I see her grace Winged clouds carry your feet You bring the Maker’s air Warm breath on winter’s eve You lay your cool hand On my fevered brow During summer’s heat You breathe life On my Brother Flame With your song, he burns Bright and true Northern wind Free wind Where are you going Which alley Or pathway In heaven will you take Will you bathe in sea sprays Or scale summits and hills Will you be carrying songs from the village Or prayers From children As they lay to sleep Lift them up to the Father Whose voice is heard In quiet In the stillness Of the wind Northern wind Healing wind You came from your Lofty dwelling From your window You watched Clouds sailing Each morning you greet From the east Daybreak As a new day dawns Light gives heat Hope And the wind brings chill Comfort Northern wind Healing wind Gentle Lofty Free You came unseen But still I am Certain Assured You are here 12:27:08.02:19
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Apr 29, 2014
Apr 29, 2014 at 1:03 PM UTC
**Ode to Sister Wind**