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 Mar 2017 True Passion
Amanda F
She paints her world
According to her pure intention.
Pure in her own figure,
Not in someone else's.
She doesn't speak,
Of words in complex.
Her mouth but translates
Her minds complexity into simplicity.
She doesn't need to speak but rare.
You've read her words,
You've witnessed the paradox
Of her pen-to-paper.
You understand her terminology
Of no bad cause.
She wordlessly preaches her rootless existence
Through the essence of her eyes,
As she hides behind the smoke of her cigarette
Extraordinary, in disguise

Amanda. F (c) 2017
Dedicated to my dear Mother - Lady R.F
With all my love
***
 Mar 2017 True Passion
Amanda F
What passes as chaos from dawn till dusk,
Alters into the most fascinating aray of lights at night.
An abundance of lit buildings showcasing a skyline of a once town now a luminescent anomaly.
A neon horizon upon a city of life,
Movement, that never sleeps*

Amanda. F (c) 2017
To my friends
who can write
fresh-smelling
bouquets of words
with splendid color,
I offer my envy.
Mine are the blunt, stunted words,
rooted in the cracks
in pavement,
or forcing their way
to light around
overbearing rocks.
Some useful
in their own way,
edible or flavorful,
some with a
pedestrian beauty,
but few that one
would bring home in a bunch
with a box of candy.
More appropriate
in a grimy, young fist
crumpled in love,
destined to be vased
in a water glass
by a doting mother,
or shredded petal by petal
for the sake of soothsaying...
he loves me, he loves me not.
The beauty of your words takes my breath away some days.  Thank you.
 Mar 2017 True Passion
bones
A certain song the sea wind knows
it sends thru puckered lips,

like kisses blown, across the bows
of drowsing sailing ships;

and stirs their sleepy sails
from their slumber with it's tune,

unfurls their folded petals
and brings them back in bloom.
 Mar 2017 True Passion
Polar
We start from nothing
And spring from dreams
Reaching through dimensions
And time.
I stand like a rock
Rooted to the earth beneath my feet
Know this place
Own this space
Whilst possessing nothing at all
Still I fly
Pondering reality
Dreaming with clarity
Knowing only
Love survives all.
A lone tree stands out
Against the stormy sky

On the far side of
The lawn in our garden

Surrounded by snowdrops
Quite a pretty picture!

Keith Wilson March 2017
Maybe some day we will dance
Holding hands in disbelief
As tears of joy
flow from our eyes
While the field of flowers
will cheer in salute
Maybe our eternity
will come to an end
And our day will come
to begin . . . just maybe

Just maybe I hope
beyond my dreams
Waiting for the one you love
Curling up next to your shoulder
I feel safe, I feel secure

You ask me, if the moon is made of silver
 I say "sure"

You ask me, if I'll love you tomorrow
Sleepily I say "Yes!"

You ask me "If wherever I lead
Will you come, will you follow"
I say, " Yes, Yes, Yes!"

You ask me if, I'll love you the next day
and the next day

I say, "Yes, love" I say it  with a smile
And even the day after,
and so on, and so forth

You ask me, "Are those diamonds in the sky?"
I say, "Yes love" as I close my eyes

"Let's sleep now, let's have some rest"
Together we drift away into dreamland
With a sweet kiss, and my head on your chest
 Mar 2017 True Passion
Aeerdna
I know.
I know how our souls react
I am here and you are there
and like magnets we sometimes attract each other
and sometimes repel
it's just about the way we sit,
you see,
when we close our eyes
it's easier to feel.

And my heart is stained
and my hands are tattooed with sins
and I know,
there's too much blue in my eyes
and too much white in my soul,
too much winter
too much snow
for the fire that you are.

I know
and you know too
there is a ground we'll both step on,
Together,
when there won't be so much snow
when you will have forgiven my hands
and the blue in my eyes
will seem warm enough
for your heart.
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