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It's me,🌳
that queen bee
It finally occurred to me
and anyone among your
Powerful elite dearest
darling lover poet,
in your glamorous domain
that I wouldn't be unkind
but something sinester had
happened for death silence
to take over my free will
speech, laughter song and
dance to just walk away from
all treasures anchored to our
heart all which fell into
my lap from your sky
repeatedly.
Oh that Janehilton may on
mother's day at the Hilton
your three hundred fifty red and white roses and my last letter upon them from a perilous past I had ran from straight into hell
thus, naturally I was speechless!
Your tycoon antorage passed me
by and again here your gold ink
  throwing stones into my pond
Like in a Japanese garden as other
younger King drones join in.
Stone ripples changing all again.
And I am never the same
everything
changed.
~~~~
Mr and Mrs. Andrews
And karijinbba
(In memory of poets tycoon beloved)
https://youtu.be/h1mRkzTOuzk
Gifted soul
🌜moon willow🌳
my ripple my stone
your blue lagoon
here in my inland sea
Only misery and pain
greedy green mates came.
Unsalable virtual lovers àim
flowed distant partners were.
In the power of one
you complete me my
transformer perfect mate.
In this world a mystery you are
a little bit mine, and in another
world you are my exclusive all
my everything.
In this our power of one.
we exist as stones thrown
into each others pond
see our ripples, your ink in gold.
Everything changed
❤️and nothing no thing is ever the same.💔💜💞
~~~~~~~
Mr. and Mrs .Andrews
🌜treasure loot all embezzled was😩
https://youtu.be/h1mRkzTOuzk
Once a year its champagne!
I feel calm passionate and teary.
It gets my head to Paris
  As life is broken down goes out
in transition or revelation,
there's a greàter darkness then the one we inadvertently fight,
the darkness of the soul
that has lost its way.
I was chosen by great sages crossing paths the sting of my blindfold lingers noone sees hope or their future, or where it leads we know only that it's bought in pain and sacrifice.
Letting go what I loved the most.
was eternal loss, having
no reparation, neither in time,
nor in eternity.
My love river is truth it's mouth is
cosmic creation.
He measured sensuality
secretively, and in shadows 
he showed me feathers of half
a man syllhuette of him,
and feels guilty I just fill in blanks,
why smack a devolving face?
And what the heck!
I first measure people in trust.
then love, as true love is rare.
Trust tells love where to roam.
Love can't be made perfect
in distrust nor fear of rivals.
When I give my heart I do,
When I share my dreams too.
I do not drown in midnight
   dew not retreat;
but I won't take sand in my eyes.
After the loving I go from rags
to riches in his love or shine
to wiser horizons..
~~~~~~~~~
Mr and Mrs Andrews.
At Karijinbba
https://youtu.be/NRt6YZV0Fz0
I write of mine inner most
feelings as ye had ventured
in thine ink to me ons before.
Our paradise my father's forestland
there was I my dad's queen of our  Sierra Madre green tree land
Oh! Adam a hero lives in thee.
Thou it seems not too long yee
have stood and looked down
one ancient road on our path
as far as thine eye could see
to where it bent in
the undergrowth.
There mine soul layed long
upon a grieving stump

True love soul redeemer youv
Earth might pass away
but not thine word.
Oh hold me near thine heart
this Eve knowed thee.
and thine beige yarn
on finger, I still wear.
~~~~.
Mr.And Mrs. Andrews
with Karijinbba.
https://youtu.be/jHN3YlNgMbY
King tree of life hello
I'm full of dew
dripping willow me for you
Two virtual
emperors, like you
write deep sensual ink.
Striking similarities to yours;
one is owned by his wife
I ignite a phantom fate spark.
Another is one way street.
Yes I am born a self existing
yellow star, a curse a blessing.
Portal to heaven by birth chart.
But you were bridge, something
in the way you brew my wine.
Fiery red gold key my six-nine.
Then silence, gap, abyss.
Into your own ginny you are!
No longer into mine!
Your ginny of
yesterday.
~~~~~~~~~~
Me and Mrs Andrews-k
https://youtu.be/HV4Jd3muGs8
A repost:
A Roman poem written before The birth of Christ, inspired the title Gone With The wind
with Scarlett and Rhett Butler

But here you see only old
confessions of a man's true love for his beloved who is all gone
-Or-
(Or a woman's true love for
her beloved runner wishing she could have chased.)
~~~
CYNAR*A.
~~~~~
Last night yesternight, betwixt her lips and mine
There fell thy shadow, Cynara! Thy breath was shed
Upon my soul between the kisses and the wine;
And I was desolate and sick of an old passion,
  Yea, I was desolate and bowed my head:
I have been faithful to thee, Cynara! in my fashion.

All night upon mine heart I felt her warm heart beat,
Night-long within mine arms in love and sleep she lay;
Surely the kisses of her bought red mouth were sweet;
But I was desolate and sick of an old passion,
  When I awoke and found the dawn was grey:
I have been faithful to thee, Cynara! in my fashion.
I have forgot much, Cynara! Gone with the wind,
Flung roses, roses riotously with the throng,
Dancing, to put thy pale, lost lilies out of mind
But I was desolate and sick of an old passion,
  Yea, all the time, because the dance was long:
I have been faithful to thee, Cynara! in my fashion.

I cried for madder music and for stronger wine,
But when the feast is finished and the lamps expire,
Then falls thy shadow, Cynara! The night is thine;
And I am desolate and sick of an old passion,
  Yea, hungry for the lips of my desire:
I have been faithful to thee, Cynara! in my fashion.
~~~~~~~

By:Ernest Dowson
For:RhettlvScarlet.
to honor Karijinbba
in her great loss and healing
of her memory chip.
~~~~~~
Copy Rights.
~~~~
Ernest Dowson (1867-1900) died of alcoholism at the age of 32. His downward spiral began at age 23 when he fell for an 11 year old girl who would spurn him at 14 when he proposed marriage.
The following year, in 1894 his father died from an overdose. Dowson's mother
hanged herself within a year of her husband's death.

Soon after this dual tragedy Dowson left for France before returning back to England in 1897. Curiously he lived with the family of his unrequited love. Penniless, heartbroken and filling the empty voids in his life with alcohol, Dowson would spend the last six weeks of his life in the cottage of the Oscar Wilde biographer Robert Sherard who had found him
drunk in a bar.

Speaking of Oscar Wilde, he wrote after Dowson's death of a,"Poor wounded wonderful fellow that he was, a tragic reproduction of all tragic poetry, like a symbol, or a scene.

I hope bay leaves will be laid on his tomb and rue and myrtle too for he knew what true love
unrequieted love was."
~~~~~
Rhett Buttler might have married other women but he never stopped loving Scarlett his true twin soul.
IN EVERY LIFETIME!
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