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"curiously" poems
Come spring, she leaped across the grassy dune, Beaming with sheer joy as she hummed a halcyon tune. Her beauteous almond eyes- the biggest, the brightest. A bonnie spotted doe in her warm, homely forest Come summer, by her gushing little lake she played. When upon a solitary, pensive buck her eyes she laid. Eyes met across the smiling lake; too soon gazes parted. While his eyes curiously lingered, hers wandered on ahead. Come monsoon, he adored her eyes, her gilded coat, her bushy tail. The passionate warmth in her eyes with affection made him frail. Yet, she went on with her blissful life- devoid of any care. Oblivious of the buck who always stopped to stare. Come winter, by his side chattering happily she grazed. Soon, his feelings faded; by almond eyes no longer crazed. Like currents in the water, apart they drifted and drifted. New lake. Nonchalant silence. No words were said. Come fall, she found that he still leaped through her mind. The emotion she once scoffed in her heart now enshrined. Eyes met across the smiling lake; too soon gazes parted. While her dull eyes wistfully lingered, his wandered on ahead.
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Jun 7, 2014
Jun 7, 2014 at 10:56 AM UTC
Almond Eyes.
Man                                           Woman He Smiles Curiously                        She Blushes Coyly He Approaches      Asks her name      She shares it     Asks the Same Mr Right                              Love at First Sight                    Her Smile is a Delight "Meet for Drinks?"                            hmmmmmm                              "Pick me up at 8?" He knocks - 1 rose.                                vase, water                        Her perfume - sweeter. Politely, opens car door for her                                The night keeps getting better At the restaurant                                                      She sips her red wine Conversation so easy                    She feels she's known him forever "Would you like to dance?                "I don't dance very well." "Indulge me, just want u in my arms."    ~Just a smile~ One hand at her waist, one on her back. They become one, all others disappear. Peering into each other's eyes. No words are needed. Their bodies say it. © 2012
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Jul 6, 2012
Jul 6, 2012 at 11:07 PM UTC
Falling in Love
a blue woman with sticking out ******* hanging clothes. On the line. not so old for the mother of twelve undershirts(we are told by is it Bishop Taylor who needs hanging that marriage is a sure cure for ************ A ***** wind,twitches the,clothes which are clean —this is twilight, a little puppy hopping between skipping children (It is the consummation of day,the hour)she says to me you big fool she says i says to her i says Sally i says the mmmoon,begins to,drool softly,in the hot alley, a ******* voice feels curiously cool (suddenly-Lights go!on,by schedule
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27.7k
A Blue Woman With Sticking Out ******* Hanging
the girls had been chattering and laughing in the dining room when suddenly nan, zoey, and madison charged in the room. making everyone stop and look at them. "Alright ******* Madison stood with her arms crossed and an enraged look in her dark brown eyes. "who the **** stole my money???" she questioned. the girls just sat there and looked at her quietly. "okay, none of you broke *** hos want to fess up? you're ballsy enough to take my **** but you're not ballsy enough to stand up to me? i see" Madison shouted. sadness and hostility in her eyes and voice. "who took Madisons money? i wanna know right now!" Cassie stood up in anger. quickly rushing to Madisons aid. Madison nudged her alittle and rolled her eyes. Cassie folded her arms, mimicking exactly what Madison had been doing. "BROKE *** HOESSSS!" Cassie screamed, pointing at all the girls. Pyper rolled her big blue eyes and flipped her long crimson red hair laughing, "nobody stole your money you idiot, you probably just misplaced it." she laughed, fearlessly looking madison straight in the eyes. which made nan look at pyper very suspiciously as she read her mind. "hold my earrings please." Madison began to put her hair up in a bun. "what is going on in here?" Cordelia stormed in the room with her arms folded. "put your shoes on Madison." Cordelia looked at Madison in confusion. "nothing, Madisons spazing out because she thinks that someone took her money. and now she's getting all 'ghetto' and bent out of shape about it. taking her payless heels off like she's actually going to do something." pyper rolled her eyes and joked, making the rest of the girls laugh aswell. "payless? i only wear chanel." Madison flipped her hair. Nan looked Pyper in the eyes suspiciously, shaking her head from side to side. "i'm going to say this once and once only." cordelia shouted. "i will not have any fighting or steeling in this house. and if anyone is caught fighting or steeling, you will be expelled. it's a big bad world out there girls, up until now you've all lived very sheltered lives and i'd hate to send you out in it to fend for yourselves." Cordelia sighed. pyper got a very sad look in her eyes. "sheltered" she snickered, "right." Nan looked at pyper sadly, still reading her mind. "what are you looking at?" Pyper shouted at nan viciously. "i'm not sure yet." Nan replied curiously.
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Jan 29, 2015
Jan 29, 2015 at 1:14 PM UTC
coven fan fic part 4
the girls had been chattering and laughing in the dining room when suddenly nan, zoey, and madison charged in the room. making everyone stop and look at them. "Alright ******* Madison stood with her arms crossed and an enraged look in her dark brown eyes. "who the **** stole my money???" she questioned. the girls just sat there and looked at her quietly. "okay, none of you broke *** hos want to fess up? you're ballsy enough to take my **** but you're not ballsy enough to stand up to me? i see" Madison shouted. sadness and hostility in her eyes and voice. "who took Madisons money? i wanna know right now!" Cassie stood up in anger. quickly rushing to Madisons aid. Madison nudged her alittle and rolled her eyes. Cassie folded her arms, mimicking exactly what Madison had been doing. "BROKE *** HOESSSS!" Cassie screamed, pointing at all the girls. Pyper rolled her big blue eyes and flipped her long crimson red hair laughing, "nobody stole your money you idiot, you probably just misplaced it." she laughed, fearlessly looking madison straight in the eyes. which made nan look at pyper very suspiciously as she read her mind. "hold my earrings please." Madison began to put her hair up in a bun. "what is going on in here?" Cordelia stormed in the room with her arms folded. "put your shoes on Madison." Cordelia looked at Madison in confusion. "nothing, Madisons spazing out because she thinks that someone took her money. and now she's getting all 'ghetto' and bent out of shape about it. taking her payless heels off like she's actually going to do something." pyper rolled her eyes and joked, making the rest of the girls laugh aswell. "payless? i only wear chanel." Madison flipped her hair. Nan looked Pyper in the eyes suspiciously, shaking her head from side to side. "i'm going to say this once and once only." cordelia shouted. "i will not have any fighting or steeling in this house. and if anyone is caught fighting or steeling, you will be expelled. it's a big bad world out there girls, up until now you've all lived very sheltered lives and i'd hate to send you out in it to fend for yourselves." Cordelia sighed. pyper got a very sad look in her eyes. "sheltered" she snickered, "right." Nan looked at pyper sadly, still reading her mind. "what are you looking at?" Pyper shouted at nan viciously. "i'm not sure yet." Nan replied curiously.
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5
No one will believe you. It hurts. It's scars they can't see, Marks they can't realize. When you say "I'm abused", they peer curiously at your undressed body. "I don't see anything."
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Oct 11, 2014
Oct 11, 2014 at 6:40 PM UTC
The Abuse
Notes passed, Check yes, fingers crossed, Heart against chest, Stomach in knots. The note makes its way down the row, And I recieve curious looks, But my eyes are trained on your face, As you grasp the note carefully, Curiously opening the white sheet, And reading my neat writting. *When my eyes open, You're the last image from my dream, And when we speak, My heart skips, One, two, three beats. And right befor I go to sleep, I think of the possibilitys, Of You and Me. Check: Yes No Date me?* Your cherry glossed lips spread Into the softest smile And your bright, shinning eyes Find mine. And I see you blush Shy. Beautiful. You grasp your pencil Scribble something down And send it back to me I can feel my heart Head to feet Pounding. Yes *My sweet, sweet prince You've gained my heart I'll take care of yours. Love, Your Princess.*
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Nov 6, 2014
Nov 6, 2014 at 8:19 PM UTC
Princess
you haven't exercised in a week you haven't exercised and you've been eating a lot - ice cream and candy and not entirely healthy things you haven't exercised and you've been eating a lot and you've developed a slight pudge around your tummy where previously you wanted rock hard abs because you wanted to be strong but you're finding that strong isn't what you've made it to be maybe strong is more than slim bodies and powerful arms...maybe and the strangest part of this journey of self-discovery is that, as your stomach starts to make itself a delicate padding and as you roll over in bed instead of going for a run, you are curiously the most happy you've been in weeks and you love your body and it makes sense and you are happy
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Mar 11, 2016
Mar 11, 2016 at 10:57 AM UTC
body
I saw a monkey masturbatin' in a tree He looked at me so curiously One stroke, Two strokes, and then three Hey jerky monkey Don't go shootin' your load on me!
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Jun 1, 2015
Jun 1, 2015 at 2:22 AM UTC
Masturbatin' Monkey
Upon the cardamom hills, mountain goats, ace acrobats, above the high rocks gaily prance, I fell in love with the coy mountain mist, silvery dense transforming each second, her wizardry in display, her white cloak was spread above green tea gardens. she sprung down in a hurry to meet me, excited how soothing is her soft caresses, impassioned kiss from the does she has learned a lot I can very well gather, the fear and the flight to keep danger at arm's length, purple sun, was curiously peeping down from the hills, mountain mist pulling spicy cardamom scent around her whispered to me, "Don't tell any one I am here before cruel sun chases me out of the hills, let me hide and play with the little ones of mountain goats in the cardamom valley where he can never reach"
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Jul 6, 2014
Jul 6, 2014 at 8:58 AM UTC
morning at the cardomom hill
god gloats upon Her stunning flesh. Upon the rechings of Her green body among unseen things, things obscene (Whose fingers young the caving ages curiously con) —but the lunge of Her hunger softly flung over the gasping shores leaves his smile wan, and his blood stopped hears in the frail anon the shovings and the lovings of Her tongue. god Is The Sea. All terrors of his being quake before this its hideous Work most old Whose battening gesture prophecies a freeing of ghostly chaos in this dangerous night through moaned space god worships God— (behold! where chaste stars writhe captured in brightening fright)
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6.8k
God Gloats Upon Her Stunning Flesh. Upon
Trash can, wastebasket; the place we throw it all away. Used tissues--soggy mascara, dried ***** or the babies that would never be, and the heaps of food waste, human waste. Wasted human. Why do we take ourselves and the people we used to love, toss people and our person deep within a hole of shame, darkness, misery, guilt, worry, frustration, fear? If someone only said to you, or to me, when we dig deep into the ground and find the place no one will find us or them, the people we are burying-- if they only said, "You are not trash." Our emotions refuse to become refuse, the remains of being unwanted, as we perceive ourselves to be. But we is just me, and even though I can't hear the voice I long to hear above my own, the sounds reverberate in my chest, next to my heart, where I heard them last. The last time we spoke your fingers did not reach for mine. Your jeans did not rip in the same one spot. The dog that I picked that you picked after you went back, his tail wagging all the way on the ride back to his new home, did not kiss my face and my eyes and ears like he loves to do. Even though you didn't still love me, you did before, now thrown hastily, yet decidedly in the trash can outside your door. I dropped off the last remnant of your physical being, an old rabbit-eared antennae. I didn't, couldn't look in your trash can, or stand in the driveway longer than was needed to drop and run the hell away from crumbling gravel, a window newly aluminum foiled, and the motorcycle kept under surveillance at all times. I hope he looked on his camera screen and saw walking, talking, feeling, breathing human trash gliding down the sidewalk, feet pattering into a jog. The grass licked my feet and tangled in my toes on the way to the one place my sighs could sink lower than my feet, deep into the warm upholstery of my car seat, the grandma car, the dented, imperfect, but mostly reliable car away, far away, to a place where someone would look curiously, pick up the trash, my trash, me, and say, "It's beautiful."
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Jul 4, 2016
Jul 4, 2016 at 12:04 AM UTC
trash panda
Trash can, wastebasket; the place we throw it all away. Used tissues--soggy mascara, dried ***** or the babies that would never be, and the heaps of food waste, human waste. Wasted human. Why do we take ourselves and the people we used to love, toss people and our person deep within a hole of shame, darkness, misery, guilt, worry, frustration, fear? If someone only said to you, or to me, when we dig deep into the ground and find the place no one will find us or them, the people we are burying-- if they only said, "You are not trash." Our emotions refuse to become refuse, the remains of being unwanted, as we perceive ourselves to be. But we is just me, and even though I can't hear the voice I long to hear above my own, the sounds reverberate in my chest, next to my heart, where I heard them last. The last time we spoke your fingers did not reach for mine. Your jeans did not rip in the same one spot. The dog that I picked that you picked after you went back, his tail wagging all the way on the ride back to his new home, did not kiss my face and my eyes and ears like he loves to do. Even though you didn't still love me, you did before, now thrown hastily, yet decidedly in the trash can outside your door. I dropped off the last remnant of your physical being, an old rabbit-eared antennae. I didn't, couldn't look in your trash can, or stand in the driveway longer than was needed to drop and run the hell away from crumbling gravel, a window newly aluminum foiled, and the motorcycle kept under surveillance at all times. I hope he looked on his camera screen and saw walking, talking, feeling, breathing human trash gliding down the sidewalk, feet pattering into a jog. The grass licked my feet and tangled in my toes on the way to the one place my sighs could sink lower than my feet, deep into the warm upholstery of my car seat, the grandma car, the dented, imperfect, but mostly reliable car away, far away, to a place where someone would look curiously, pick up the trash, my trash, me, and say, "It's beautiful."
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41
In glorious flight owning daylight You magistrate freedom across An ocean with your own box Of twilight that you share In a land of fish A moonlit wish With wings that Kiss the Sky Throughout your expeditions to ground Your voice is a dynamic sound None can ignore your presence What would Pandora say When you sing that way? Higher you fly Distances Many Won't Instruct us to use our heart compass Open our eyes to perspective Show us potential to live When self-doubt is about Like a grain of sand May our cares be Found without A need For The liberty of our latitude Is the length of our attitude The way the wind blows effects The direction we go Our choices to be Curiously Ebb and flow Waving Lo Behold a new dawn of bright feather Consider the stormy weather Notice how cloud and sun Witness the Mother Nature at play Survey to Coastal Bay May we find our way as you have shown Limitless unbounded and flown So shallow is the worry No longer a fury A calming has come Soaring above With truth in Our hearts Won Riding the currents of emotions Soaring aloft mental oceans Wings spanned in physical worlds Discover us great pearls Of wisdom and poise Joyful in noise Good solid Gifts of Sage Cleansing our spirits of past trifles Being careful not to stifle New growth with every gust gained A quill, a crest, a quest A mountain peaked with Knowledge like the Pier we are Destined To A gate to become the best versions Of our outstanding self-landing Into the stars we have been The fringe dust of pinion Divine with the wind Beginning free And renewed With no End © tHE tERRY tREE
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Dec 5, 2014
Dec 5, 2014 at 9:15 PM UTC
Seagull Spirit
In glorious flight owning daylight You magistrate freedom across An ocean with your own box Of twilight that you share In a land of fish A moonlit wish With wings that Kiss the Sky Throughout your expeditions to ground Your voice is a dynamic sound None can ignore your presence What would Pandora say When you sing that way? Higher you fly Distances Many Won't Instruct us to use our heart compass Open our eyes to perspective Show us potential to live When self-doubt is about Like a grain of sand May our cares be Found without A need For The liberty of our latitude Is the length of our attitude The way the wind blows effects The direction we go Our choices to be Curiously Ebb and flow Waving Lo Behold a new dawn of bright feather Consider the stormy weather Notice how cloud and sun Witness the Mother Nature at play Survey to Coastal Bay May we find our way as you have shown Limitless unbounded and flown So shallow is the worry No longer a fury A calming has come Soaring above With truth in Our hearts Won Riding the currents of emotions Soaring aloft mental oceans Wings spanned in physical worlds Discover us great pearls Of wisdom and poise Joyful in noise Good solid Gifts of Sage Cleansing our spirits of past trifles Being careful not to stifle New growth with every gust gained A quill, a crest, a quest A mountain peaked with Knowledge like the Pier we are Destined To A gate to become the best versions Of our outstanding self-landing Into the stars we have been The fringe dust of pinion Divine with the wind Beginning free And renewed With no End © tHE tERRY tREE
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81
Like a peacock on a roof, I’m a wonder with height American-Jew on Mt. Harmon. My tallis are bright feathers My tefillin, my beak. In Israel they are me. Why do I feel different in the Land? Like a peacock on a roof, I’m curiously at home.
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Aug 19, 2013
Aug 19, 2013 at 7:49 PM UTC
Peacocking over Tz'fat
Singing up on the fly, the sea touches the cloud. Dancing on the ground, it won't slip off the floor, it won’t drop a drop! Curiously algorithmic, runs on the go, leaps or dips, but never is a gone goose! Ah, holy smoke, what did you drop?
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Aug 16, 2017
Aug 16, 2017 at 8:53 PM UTC
Singing On The Fly
Mirror, mirror! You are so clear. Pure like clear water I see not your colour. 'You can see my inside it's your picture!' It whispers to a candle curiously burning in front of the mirror!
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Nov 29, 2018
Nov 29, 2018 at 5:57 PM UTC
Candle in the Mirror
I don’t want to think about her anymore. But I just can't seem to get her out of my head. I know she never thinks about me, so why am I always stuck with the thought of her? Every day, she is there. In my head And it hurts, it hurts to know That you and I have no future outside of my thoughts Because in reality you ignore me you see me and quickly look away, and you dont know how much that ******* hurts how much it hurts to be in love with a girl like you. A girl who innocently prances around my mind and turns me into a nervous wreck. why? I curiously asked her because I don’t want to hurt you Well then why does my heart hurt the way it does? because I must forget. I must rid my mind of the thoughts she left behind! But I can't as much as I want too I just can't
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Jan 19, 2014
Jan 19, 2014 at 3:28 AM UTC
Hurtful Thoughts
Stairs fly as straight as hawks; Or else in spirals, curve out of curve, pausing At a ledge to poise their wings before relaunching. Stairs sway at the height of their flight Like a melody in Tristan; Or swoop to the ground with glad spread of their feathers Before they close them. They curiously investigate The shells of buildings, A hollow core, Shell in a shell. Useless to produce their path to infinity Or turn it to a moral symbol, For their flight is ambiguous, upwards or downwards as you please; Their fountain is frozen, Their concertina is silent.
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4.1k
Flight Of Stairs
Warm colors in the sky, The burnt amber reminded me of your eyes. A beautiful prize, That I can't summarize. As my gaze curiously wanders to yours, Caught those gemstones looking into mine enticed. With our sights aligned, The sun kisses the ocean its goodbyes. As the serene waves serenades the sun, Pulling our heartstrings on a run. As the dusk, Melted into the ocean blush. There, Your rosy cheeks. Brighter than any sunset, Melted mine into a smile.
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Jan 17, 2022
Jan 17, 2022 at 2:33 PM UTC
Sunsets and you
Although the skies appear blue, Blueish white, with cottony hue. Coloured orange, with fainted red Dazzles bright at each sunset. Evening sky, intensely blue, Fainted is the sunset hue. Glowworms dance, adorn the hue Happiness spreads  in the world anew Into this landscapic purplish blue. Juggling, days Klucking nights Lying stunned in this hue so right Man, the creature, so curiously few. No matter it's a day or two, some hues amaze like a landscapic view! Orange red, with deep yellow in blue, Pearly stars, adorn the view. Quilty cold, in the days with dew Rosemary looks majestically new! Sun, the ball of fire for few Teaches, turns a page each new, Unknown, interesting, perceivable to few Vanity is so pale, to take, Wander, wither, breath well each day. Xmas may not come each day, Yawn, smile, admire all days, as uncertain are night somedays Zenith meets  only the braves,  let zephyrs cuddle,  embrace your zealousy face.
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Nov 19, 2017
Nov 19, 2017 at 5:18 PM UTC
Alphabetical (ABCD....WXYZ) Poem on 'Nature & The Sky Above'
One day a bee Was flying happily By a meadow curiously He saw a sunflower Shone brightly Bewitched he flew closer To the beautiful splendor Of which was simply was An elegant little flower They chatted all day With no obstacles in their way Until night came Then everything changed The peculiar flower had to go But with no goodbye to go She just closed up where she was And not a single stop or pause Sadly, the bee left Leaving the flower he just met Thinking to himself that time I'll try harder next time
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Nov 23, 2016
Nov 23, 2016 at 9:54 AM UTC
Sunflower and the Bee
A bag of potatoes and a baseball bat. Is merely a sack of starchy vegetables and a sculpted metal stick. But on this blustering evening a bag of potatoes and a baseball bat meant an infinity more than that. In this fleeting moment, I felt solidarity with the fact that life doesn't make sense. I looked at you in your adjacent flesh ridden essence and smiled at this opportunity to connect. The bat clashing with the pock eyed potato skin. Our existences colliding with ebb and flow of a maniac pulsation. This is not merely a hackneyed show of baseball bat on a bag of potatoes. This is a boy and a girl realizing that this ever sacred moment holds more gravity than merely a bag of potatoes and a baseball bat. It's just that we can't conjure what makes it so rich and ever splendid... so thus it must be rich and ever splendid as the potato is launched into flight igniting the curiously enraptured mind of boy and girl witnessing baseball bat on potato
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Dec 17, 2016
Dec 17, 2016 at 2:28 AM UTC
Bag of potatoes and a baseball bat
Cascades were dripping outside of this moving vehicle White noise, patternless and arrhythmic like magnified sounds of nails on a concrete wall, made by souls desperate to cleave their way to dryness This public utility vehicle holds spirits successful in finding this temporary heaven Weathered, soaked and almost drowned like panting dogs that managed to swim ashore from a shipwreck caused by the iceberg that is the eye of the storm This safe haven holds champions in a world of misshapen men A woman clutches tightly on a bag of lime and her ever waning youth Tired, but not eager to face Death still closing her windows to his cat burglars that come faster than the downpour of Typhon's tears A homeless child comfortably sleeps on the far end of this ride His innocence tested by fate Too experienced for someone his age instead of just playing in the streets he calls home The jeepney driver has eyes on the road painted by Van Gogh Unabashed, industrious and assiduous determined to serve, provide for a family whose stomachs hunger not but they hunger for his return This other dimension nurtures alien thoughts and parallel thinking among beat down men I do not know them but I can hear the cries of their emotions, their longing to be felt and empathized with Their voiceless cries are guns with a silenced nozzle shooting at anyone ignorant who curiously stare at this minefield of a passenger jeep
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Dec 19, 2015
Dec 19, 2015 at 12:19 PM UTC
Passenger Jeep
I look into her face, curiously more familiar, more frequent now on her departure. And particularly more prominent in profile.   I look into her face and see the easy smile that comes with age and with the assurance of knowing herself and her place in the bigger scheme of things, particularly in the scheme of relatively earthly royalty and the ultimately heavenly King. I look into her face and recall it in prayer at her husband's funeral, and imagine it now at rest, in darkness and in joy, in a brighter light. I look into her face, on my pound coin, in the corner of my letter, on the street bill board, on the front of the paper, on every channel, an image etched in my mind's eye, a loud echo of a lifetime of consistency and service.   I look and then in a prayer thank her God and my God for gifting us this servant queen, who lived well and only fell once she had done enough to help ensure others' lives were better for her being there. And I pray for our king, that his long apprentiship in her firm serves him well and serves us well as we walk on together, into the unknown, in thanks for the service of leaders.
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Sep 16, 2022
Sep 16, 2022 at 12:12 PM UTC
Her face
And like a bird She flies away. She sings her song in ultimate joy. Her heart flutters. Singing what comes to mind. Soon as she is approached. She flies away. The wind beneath her arms. She goes higher and higher. Stopping in mid air, Her arms tired & sore. The life she deserves isn't far. Gliding towards the horizon. Soon as she finds peace. It is easily disturbed. Looking around to find the best place. Seeking shelter she flies further. Appearances aren't at all what they seem. For this she is labeled and taken for granted. Curiously placing one foot in front of the other. Veering the opposite direction. Her heart falling faster and faster. They don't know her worth. She flies higher and higher
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May 31, 2018
May 31, 2018 at 2:07 PM UTC
Why She Flies