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I welcome the sun with open arms
Touched by its warmth and soothing light
Disarmed by it's limpid molten charm
After a gusty and stormy night.
A breeze still blows but the gales have eased
And blue is the sky over sun washed fields
Clouds that gently drift with joy
Float like angels of love and peace.
And though the world darkens at times
Shadowed seem joy and bliss
May the heart never forget
The beauty that was and the beauty that is.
 Apr 2018 Nightingale
JD Leishman
My eyes open and my chest ignites like a roaring flame.
The Sun scorches my face and my soul screams out her name.

Today! Oh what a day!
My world is ablaze, never has my heart glowed this red and this way.

I have awoken at last from my frigid death,
Life becomes me as does heated breath.

Her sweet scent grips my senses, as her soft touch thaws my skin.
Her innocent eyes tell me otherwise,
and with inviting lips she whispers pleasure without sin.

My blood runs seething hot,
My sweat cascades like fire rain.
Forgiveness I seek you not,
This fire cannot be tamed.

My soul screams out her name.

I am Jimmy.
She said she didn’t feel good.
They said what else is new.
She said this time it’s different.
They said we’ve heard that too.

She said I think I’m dying
They said give us a break.
She said I’m even crying
They said those tears are fake.

She said I think you’ll miss me.
They said you haven’t gone.
She said it’s getting darker.
They said don’t carry on.

She closed her eyes in silence.
They said come on let’s go.
Her form grew cold and rigid
At last they had to know.

She wasn’t just pretending.
The thing she fought was real.
Her story had no ending.
And her life book they could seal.

They said we’ve been so stupid.
Uncaring and unkind.
She tried and tried to show us
But we were just too blind.

And now she’s gone forever.
Who’s going to run this place.
They don’t know which they’ll miss more-
Her efforts or her face.
ljm
Sometimes the wolf really is at the door.
how this came and come to be,
from gone to come to gone rediscovered but unreleased,
a passage thematic that birthed
fully formed, formal in its inception,
contented in its first appearance and
its primary coincident deception

who wrote this? not me? could not be!

yet a scented hint of
eau d’familiarité
suggests that I may have
inadvertently
plagiarized
myself

this old poem mine,
we certifiably have never met,
but nonesuch a hail fellow met,
that upon our (re?) acquaintance,
the heavens marked the occasion with
hail and neither of us deemed it strange

so we well recall our ancestor’s words

”there is nothing new under the sun”

adding our brand new imprimatur
”not even June or the Moon or other iconic loons”

we may have borrowed from the insights,
recollecting what happened to us when separated at birth,
envisioning like the prophets of yore what was implanted
long before  we remembered it well
upon its birthday

our intertwined twinning
fate befallen*

   postscript

quaking heart, trembling pointer
dawning and dying
simultaneous

neither tissue, cell, molecule,
i am but a composite of
letters, alpha bits and bets,
recirculated songs and tunes born
like me,
compromised, bridged,
newly un and recovered,
lengthy and unabridged,
my appearance faulty,
my eyes ****** ruddy and red,
my fingered tips blend and bleed
words acquired, words invented,
marching before me,
old lands recaptured,
new ones set free

take and give -
there’s no difference -
intimation, initiation,
all
bring me home
to where my boundaries begin


<•>

this one, for the ladies who loved its
predecessor

https://hellopoetry.com/poem/2367267/the-temple-of-you/
 Apr 2018 Nightingale
Mike Adam
As geese
In chevron
Flow through
Sky

Let me be
In each moment
In each beat of wings

And depart

Without a trace
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