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I have moved to a different drum
With odd and peculiar rhythms
Dancing awkwardly through life
On my two flat clumsy feet
It is not the way I chose
To step on innocent toes
But the wildness of my dance
Has had no easy flow
The blame lies entirely with me
It's a genetic thing, you see
I am no more than this
The son of the gypsy's kiss

                                By Phil Roberts
Thank you Lord for each dawn that breaks
For every happy hour it brings
Thank you for granting one more year
To see your glory and kneel in prayer

Thank you for the breeze that blows
For every lovely flower that blooms
For each silvery star that twinkles
Proclaiming your love that never dwindles

Thank you for friends who always stand by
And through love n’ kindness add to our joy
Thank you for silent words of solace uttered
When in pain, words of disgust muttered

Thank you for all those we chance to meet
Who with smiles and kindness gladly greet
And add to our sense of self worth
Making our lives lovelier on this Earth

Thank you for your hovering care
During trying times of wear and tear
Thank you for your silent voice
That always makes our hearts rejoice

Thank you for all the trials you send
That makes our weak shoulders bend
For it is then we look up to Heaven
And all our binding chains loosen!!
Thursday- 23rd November was Thanksgiving Day! Sadly I couldn’t  post it yesterday. When I think of thanksgiving, I remember the One who deserves all thanks!
I wish all my friends on HP happy Thanksgiving!
Once,
gentle winds navigated our craft
safely through
the turbulent waters of life.
Then you set sail
to voyage a separate course.
And my heart
capsized
in the wake
of your passing love.
Let ethereal fingers
   of my thoughts
      reach out
    like wisps
           of
drifting
          smoke
        to
           enfold
every inch of* [you]
     in a spectral
  lovers embrace.


A thousand miles
they shall reach
as I recall
[you]
      a smile
envision
[you]
  brown eyes
      and the gentleness
                  of
[us]
        sweet touching flesh.

Let my thoughts
   return to me
     the taste
     of
[you]
  honeyed lips
    the touch
     of
[you]
  warm hands
   the beauty
   of our kiss
   of our love.


             Allow I feel
                  [you]
          within my heart
           your presence
          holding me tight
            and the warmth
                 of our
          flesh entwined
             throughout
              the silent
               of night.


Embrace with me
       my love
  of flamed     memories
          of passion
      we have shared.


Yet look ahead
          with longing
               for greater
                      yet to be
within these
       beautiful moments
                recalled
                            of

­                               [you]
                                   and
                                        *[me]….
 Nov 2017 G Rog Rogers
Contoured
She was a monochromatic artist,
She carried grey on her brushes,
Grey on her canvas.

Years had passed,
painting the grey,
Until she met him,
on a casual day.
He asked for her art,
red engulfed her face.
She handed it over,
Felt her heart race.

As he painted atop,
her plain, grey work,
She noticed his quiver,
his subtle quirk.
He shook with excitement,
for what he created.
The strokes of his brush,
what they effectively stated.

The canvas flooded with color,
vibrant blue and red.
What once was just grey,
was every color instead.
He shared his paint,
and together they painted.
Hours, days, weeks, months,
they were quickly acquainted.

It soon became time,
to get on his way.
He packed up his paints,
left the next day.
Soon after he left,
her work began to fade.
What was once turquoise and magenta,
again became stone grey.

She carried grey on her brushes,
Grey on her canvas.
She was a monochromatic artist.
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