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He proposed first with two roses,
He gave first rose with a note,
I Love you and will do so for the rest of my life,
He gave a second rose,
To my best friend.
Then he knelt down with a diamond ring,
*Will you marry me
The controversy he sparked raged long after he was gone, like rain droplets trickling down a branch after the rain had stopped completely.

 Jun 2021 Valsa George
Em
The heat of the cold sun
Burns frostbites into my skin
Icicles growing in the cave of my lungs
Breath a cigarette between trembling lips

And I wait
And I wait

The moon boils the waters
A deep purple neath my feet
The foam biting at my heels
And the night smothering my eyes

And I wait
And I wait

And when I still my heart and pulse
To drown within the forest
The world blows past my shoulders
And carries away my voices
The closed Book
Abandons words
Speaks with lonely eyes
Stores up thoughts
Inside the mind.
A private world inside.
Thinking deep
Mind mesmerized
Ticking time Bomb
Tick tock Tick tock

Could go off at anytime
The private world explodes.
The closed Book
Has been overlooked
By passers bye.
The story never told
And was never heard.
Some people are like a closed Book they keep things to themselves .
Not always in there interest.
Luscinian voices in the thicket of a midnight waltz
single male birds singing from a point of solitude  
closing down on city sounds inside a forest vault  
the sound of their vocals, nightingale's prelude      

calling in mates with whistles, trills  and sounds
sending messages of longing from across the throng  
listening from cup-shaped nests, eager to be found  
they wind up feeling drawn by their melodious song  

she, awake as the dawn and free as a bird in the sky  
he, as cuffed to her beauty as  the wings on her back  
they mate on a branch as soft as a nightingale's sigh  
away from the songsters, who are trying but lack

luscinian voices singing softly of dawn's pure glory
while two nightingales share a life, and love story.    

June 11, 2021
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

                             Little Corpses Everywhere

            Woman kept child’s corpse in a plastic storage tote

                                               -CNN

Little corpses decaying in storage totes
Little corpses by the hundreds in unmarked graves
Little corpses by the abortuary thousands
In bags neatly labeled “Medical Waste”

Little corpses with shrivelled ****-tainted lungs
Little corpses dropped discreetly in the creek
Little corpses all chopped and dropped and flushed
So that graduation night won’t be ruined

Little corpses in factories, mere skin and bones
Their agonies haunting our new smart phones
"Don't lie. Above all, don't lie to yourself."

-Father Zosima in THE BROTHERS KARAMAZOV
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