"fleecy" poems
’Twas noontide of summer,
And midtime of night,
And stars, in their orbits,
Shone pale, through the light
Of the brighter, cold moon.
’Mid planets her slaves,
Herself in the Heavens,
Her beam on the waves.
I gazed awhile
On her cold smile;
Too cold—too cold for me—
There passed, as a shroud,
A fleecy cloud,
And I turned away to thee,
Proud Evening Star,
In thy glory afar
And dearer thy beam shall be;
For joy to my heart
Is the proud part
Thou bearest in Heaven at night,
And more I admire
Thy distant fire,
Than that colder, lowly light.
20k
Build me a slow boat to Timbuktu via China
Heave down a fleecy cloud and let me float to Nirvana
Hunt me a unicorn and let me ride to the Enchanted Forest
Find me a giant eagle and let it lift me to Outer Mongolia East
'please don't leave me here amongst demons with human faces'
Show me a Church and I'll show you a hall full of Sinners
Point out a wife and I'll reveal a liar and a fake and none dimer
Call a Doctor and its a Monster who betrayed the Hippocratics
That Government Boss is a cruel heinous snake without ethics
'please don't leave me here amongst demons with human faces'
See that Preacher and see a spineless hypocrite back-stabber
That lover was nothing but a sick deranged false **** twister
My dear acquaintance a heartless corrupted shyster unhinged
A Newsagent full of pitiless, gloomy, vile, psychotic joy-suckers
'please don't leave me here amongst demons with human faces'
That friend of years a bloodsucking Judas who betrayed and stole
Uncles who rained terror with sadistic pleasures in parts unwhole
Show me nieces and find two-faced ******* with poisons in veins
Neighborhoods full of silent killers and Rapists of truthful genes
'please don't me leave here amongst demons with human faces'
A vicars' daughter wielding angst axes better than a viking
The pathetic Moors zombies tearing flesh on masters beholding
The dead-eyed Arabs salivating madly or at daggers drawn
Contemptible Men-kids with pin ****** used as King's pawns
'please don't leave me here amongst demons with human faces'
Build me a cottage in rolling green fields with blue skies
Find me a fair maiden with a true heart and warming smiles
Show me a place that holds fairness and justice real and dear
A world with humanity we're all sisters and brothers for care
'please don't leave me here amongst demons with human faces'
[email protected] August2018
Aug 9, 2018
Aug 9, 2018 at 11:44 PM UTC
Swept in on the sixth of the first
Icy winds sluiced on dripping fleecy snow showers
I saw a raging storm coming with vile foreboding nursed
Staple in peace in love in goodwill laid a fitting banquet for all hours
Rewards for toil and strive in minds attuned and goodness versed
I knelt supplicant before my Lord
Laid my just heart bare and without fear or dread
laid a ringing vow as in warmth or bellowing thundering cold
I rest in the forethought I am girded to sail sun's flames un thread
For no blooded being can justly state I harmed or injured in my fold
I will walk this vale of tears
Meet with demons and the ****** of the outer worlds
Face the volcanoes in hell and shame blazing red lava ingots
I will not cower before deadly serpents or baulk at icy frozen walls
If I fall I will stand again an again till God's time uneaten by maggots
I implored my Faithful Lord
Take me down grind and cast me asunder and bereft
If this be ordained that an innocent soul pays an unjust price
The darkest storm has raged wild and furious a depraved joy theft
My God upholds me and holds that truths and honesty never a vice
[email protected].
Sep 30, 2018
Sep 30, 2018 at 5:34 PM UTC
My hands fly across the key board as I search around.
Not for anything in particular, just watching people cross in front of my eyesight.
A girl walking in circles in a blue fleecy vest, talking on the phone.
I remember my father telling me the importance of leaning to type without having to look at the keyboard.
I thought he was stupid.
I thought it was silly.
I ****** at typing.
I still use three fingers only, mainly.
Pinky for the shift key occasionally.
Right ring finger for the return key.
I don’t even use the thumb for the space bar
Like you’re supposed to-
I use my right pointer finger.
I always had to endure the agony of typing with
The Box
Over my fingers in elementary school.
My best friend can recreate fond memories of a 10-year-old me
Squeezing
My eyeballs shut,
Lining up my fingers, my tongue sticking out,
Only to discover
I had typed everything
Wrong
Start over.
But having entered the college age.
I’m happy to be able to
Glance
Around
While I work.
Makes it seem like some automaton is recording my thoughts, which I don’t even have to think About as I
Consider a flowerpot full of yellow flowers…pansies?
So the poet was right.
He was always looking out windows.
Like all his poems would come streaming through them.
Bits of cloudy thoughts captured on paper, because his
Eyes were free to wander.
Silly poet.
Silly little girl.
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Jan 10, 2014
Jan 10, 2014 at 11:00 PM UTC
Love is the scent with the lotus born.
It is the silent choirs of petals
Singing the winter’s harmony of uniform beauty.
Love is the song of the soul, singing to God.
It is the balanced rhythmic dance of planets -
sun and moon lit
In the skyey hall festooned with fleecy clouds –
Around the sovereign Silent Will.
It is the thirst of the rose to drink the sunrays
And blush red with life.
‘Tis the promptings of the mother earth
To feed her milk to the tender, thirsty roots,
And to nurse all life.
It is the urge of the sun
To keep all things alive.
Love is the unseen craving of the Mother Divine
That took the protecting father–form,
And that feeds helpless mouths
With milk of mother’s tenderness.
It is the babies’ sweetness,
Coaxing the rain of parental sympathy
To shower upon them.
It is the lover’s unenslaved surrender to the beloved
To serve and solace.
It is the elixir of friendship,
Reviving broken and bruised souls.
It is the martyr’s zeal to shed his blood
For the well-beloved fatherland.
It is the ineffable, silent call of the heart to another
heart.
It is the God-drunk poet’s heartaches
For every creature’s groans.
Love is to enjoy the family rose of petal-beings,
And thence to move to spacious fields -
Passing by portals of social, national, international
sympathy,
On to the limitless Cosmic Home –
To gaze with looks of wonderment,
And to serve all that lives, still or moving.
This is to know what love is.
He knows who lives it.
Love is evolution’s ameliorative call
To the far-strayed sons
To return to Perfection’s home.
It is the call of the beauty – robed ones
To worship the great Beauty.
It is the call of God
Through silent intelligences
And starburst of feelings.
Love is the Heaven
Toward which the flowers, rivers, nations, atoms,
creatures – you and I
Are rushing by the straight path of action right,
Or winding laboriously on error’s path,
All to reach haven there at last.
4k
Taking pictures of the high mountain.
I see a spectacular site;
She's floating with the clouds,
Sunny, white, fleecy clouds.
Wearing a pink kimono with wings covered in Sakura flowers,
Doves flying around her head,
Snow capped mountain towering in the background
Peeking through Sakura trees.
Is she playing with me?
She's playing hide and seek in the mist.
When, I look at her playing,
She fills me with joy and makes me feel like a child,
She makes me smile.
Alas, she hides among the clouds once again.
I look and look but do not see. I am concerned.
I miss our hide and seek game.
Where did you go?
We haven't finished our game.
Suddenly! I feel safe and warm all over me, Like a warm blanket covering me on a cold day, A tickle on my cheek.
And
Then, hearing a calming voice whispering in my ear saying, “Love, take my hand come with me. Let's go dancing high amongst the clouds this day.”
“You will never be alone again...”
Copyright © Ronald J Chapman All Rights Reserved.
Dec 2, 2014
Dec 2, 2014 at 6:11 PM UTC
Greenish hills and alice blue skies
whimsical faeries wander along the timberlands
play hide and seek around pine groves
brimming the atmosphere with liquid of blithe.
a pair of cerulean eyes glitter under a lucid sun,
and reflected a thousand rainbows.
the feet you danced, headed forth to the ethereal grounds.
in those fleecy palms held a bouquet of fresh peonies.
as the wind huffs and grins, the fruit trees leafs begin to compose
as if in an orchestra house.
around my body flew a rabble of butterflies, your psyche is surreal.
"You came back"
I grasp to his muscular limbs, to fracture and to feel with seraphic love.
By the night the archaic moon hangs, all my dreamless night pulverized.
gory scenarios in my brain surrendered for an escape.
My heart pumps, my collarbones shrieks,
on our old bed, up-down, up-down, in-out, in-out....
"ah." the hue of a merry-go-round.
As the summer reborn, the reality seizes..
our love is immortal without a fullstop
-l.r
Sep 17, 2013
Sep 17, 2013 at 11:20 PM UTC
I may behave like one at times,
But I don't want to look like a giant baby.
This hideous thing
Has been made for a giraffe-legged, short-bodied blob with no *****
And it takes up a single wash in my machine.
It's only redeeming feature
Is that it made my daughters laugh until they needed to ***
So it's a good job I didn't find it funny,
As I'd have to take the whole thing off for such an act.
Off to Oxfam with it.
I hope it finds a loving home.
I've made my mind up; not a onesie fan
And besides, I sleep naked
And have no need for a giant fleecy sack.
Jan 5, 2014
Jan 5, 2014 at 10:10 AM UTC
Our fingers dropped snowballs,
and laced together
in heated pockets.
Our cheeks dusted icy white,
with hot insides
from rich cocoa.
Our eyelashes clutched flurries,
later happy tears
by the fireplace.
Our bodies shiver stripped of clothes,
embrace and cling
under fleecy covers.
Our whispers rose in the cold,
vapored souls eloping
with lover's warmth.
Nov 29, 2014
Nov 29, 2014 at 1:53 PM UTC
Sara L Russell, 22nd January 2014, 01:26
Sometimes things make it harder letting go.
We made some progress on
the first day; gathered clothes and books,
some random pieces of costume jewellery,
laptop cables, pens, lighters,
shampoo and makeup.
I could see her in everything;
the rock chick aura of her CD collection,
the dalek key ring, a book on Camelot;
only she could carry off that Wonder Woman tee shirt,
only she could stand outside in Mum's garden, in that
fleecy dressing gown with hearts,
cawing back at the crows,
cigarette in hand.
The photographs hit us the hardest.
To look into those merry blue eyes
and know that they no longer look back into ours;
They only keep their smile lines for eternity,
laughing at a secret we will never know,
lost in two dimensions,
In the flat worlds of the past.
Jan 23, 2014
Jan 23, 2014 at 6:20 AM UTC
Some think this world a vale of tears, or worry and of sighs;
That Life's a great big lottery, in which few win a prize.
I read some hopeless verses once that don't deserve to last,
They told how the mill can never grind with water that is past.
I'd like to change that fallacy which has caused so many a tear,
And by transposing make it bear a message of good cheer
And point the way of winds of hope, like pennant on a mast,
For I know that the mill can grind again with water that is past.
A mountain stream comes trickling in the sunlight down the hill,
And gathers volume until it has strength to run the mill;
It happily continues then, upon its useful way,
Turns other mills still further down, until it joins the bay.
Its temporary mission o'er, it sweeps out to the sea
With other useful waters bearing it company;
And there all peacefully they rest, beneath the shining sun,
Who seems to think their mission is scarcely yet begun.
With gentle force He lifts them up in vapors to the sky,
And gathers them in fleecy clouds in His domain so high,
Where kindly winds then waft them back to that mountain home,
From which a few short hours before we saw them start to roam.
The cooling night then causes them to fall in gentle showers,
A blessing to that mountainside, to grass and trees and flowers;
And in the dawn of early morn we find them back once more
In that same little mountainside, but stronger than before.
They gather volume as they come a-tumbling down the hill,
And then with added vigor again they turn the mill;
And then in play they rush away, through meadowland and town,
And every mill again is turned as they go dancing down.
The brightest day is no more useful than the darkest night,--
Our troubles soon would disappear if we'd view them aright.
Good fortune may be holding back her best things to the last,
For I know that the mill can grind again with water that is past.
And that same little mountain stream
Has always been to me
But one of Nature's many proofs
Of Immortality.
Nov 9, 2014
Nov 9, 2014 at 7:51 PM UTC
When the sun glowed warm with brighter sheen
The Earth that lay inert in drunken sleep
Woke up suddenly to greet the glorious dawn
Casting aside the blanket of fluffy wool
Beams of light thawed and melted the icy crust
Leaving the land, bare, bright and new
A clean slate for life to make a fresh start
And give our Earth a lovely face lift
As winter slouched away in staggering steps
Spring, came down gracefully on dancing feet
Like an ingenious wizard with the Mida’s touch
Turning everything into glittering green n’ gold
So awesome it is to watch with widening eye
The first burgeoning of life with the kiss of spring
Every tree n’ every shrub, dressed in sudden sprout of leaves
And every plant and every bough bursting into newer buds
Daffodils on wayside nodding in blooms of gold
Pansies and daisies springing close to passing heels
The laburnum and lilacs, getting ready to burst into bloom
Flowers yellow, red and blue on every fence and field
Butterflies flitting round and round on colorful wings
And exotic blooms in gentle breeze swinging their heads
The birds that ere migrated to warmer climes
Coming back once more to fill the aerial space
Sparrows merrily twittering around tiled eaves
The robin springing, throwing a livelier note
The lark disappearing into the sky of fleecy clouds
The swallows shooting out into giddy heights
The feathered minstrels, filling the air in riotous rings
And Nature covering the Earth in quilts of lovely designs
Lovers leave their fireside hearths and coming out
To ramble through country paths, hand in hand
Oh! Spring has come to wipe away the frosty tear
And fill the hearts with overwhelming cheer
Let us join this array of happy crowd
And sing a song of joy with this mirthful brood
Jul 15, 2014
Jul 15, 2014 at 11:57 AM UTC
Oh! How like you, I long to be a singing lark
Who among the fleecy clouds like a tiny speck
Remains hidden, drowning the air with music sweet
Rising higher and darting up with movements slick
In our ears, falls your song like peals of chiming bells
In clear, crystalline notes on this radiant day so bright
Why do you stay unseen in the far fringes of heaven?
Oh! Come out from the veils that cover you from our sight!
Are you warbling of love in inextricable lays
Or chanting hymns to the God of greater heights
Diving up and down like a mysterious sprite
Are you trilling of the charms of enchanting sights
Soaring and swaying like a flitting dot of light
You ascend higher and higher to dizzier heights
I guess your wings brush against the sailing clouds
As you reel round and round in ecstatic flights
Have you bade farewell to the verdant groves beneath
Have you flown for good from your woody nest?
Why do you dwell in the heights, solitary and alone?
Have you made the firmament your haven of rest?
Hovering over unseen, you pour out melodies sweet
That fills our gloomy hearts with euphoric delight
Sweeping away from weary heads all sullen thoughts
And flaming our souls as ever blazing beacons of light!
May 10, 2016
May 10, 2016 at 10:30 AM UTC
Regular as clockwork
the spotters gather there
binoculars and notebooks
as up the track they stare
assembled on the platform
with all the day to spare
they put the world to rights
and wait without a care
clad in finest anorak
tweed caps are in this year
their fleecy inners covering
heads once thick with hair
Every day I see them
sometimes just a pair
shuffling on the concrete
sometimes with a chair
Pensions less than peanuts
Blame young Tony Blair
But everything forgotten
at sight of one thats rare
Life is breathed to tired legs
nostrils start to flare
sweaty palms note hastily
with eager thank you prayer
And oh the day the Queen came
They stood in open air
and cheered to see that engine
sweep in with royal flare
I'll not be hear to watch you
From comfy office chair
From now on I'll be missing
But I know you'll still be there
Jan 24, 2010
Jan 24, 2010 at 9:50 PM UTC
King Rat gnawed at the piece of wood for to bite and dine!
God's pure name was inscribed upon the battered sign,
But King Rat continued to snack like it was the flesh of freshly caught cod,
What was this then, maybe Rat was God?
Aha, oh no, but along came slinky Mistress Cat!
So quick and nimble was she, up she snapped and gobbled up fat King Rat,
She licked her lips upon a fallen slab of greasy salty lard,
What was this then, maybe Mistress Cat was God?
Aha, oh no, but along came faithful Master Dog!
Away he chased crafty Mistress Cat into the swampy mired bog,
Hardworking Master Dog surveyed his domain and his tail stood up to attention like a rigid rod,
What was this then, maybe Master Dog was God?
Aha, oh no, but along came Chief Wolf!
He bites and shakes hard into the collar of Master Dog, the neck tears like fleecy wool,
Blood ran down Chief Wolf's chin and he smiled with victory as he sat down by the warm coal road,
What was this then, maybe Chief Wolf was God?
Aha, oh no, but along came the Queen of Fire!
Into Chief Wolf she passionately burns, into ashes was he burnt upon her sultry bed of burning pyre,
The gleaming Queen of Fire burned with glowing glory, there was red life yet in her pulsating bud,
What was this then, maybe the Queen of Fire was God?
Aha, oh no, but along came a river of Mighty Water!
The fiery Queen of Fire hisses and fizzles and soon she is nothing more than steam, all slaughtered,
Mighty Water flows vast and rampant, he rules his oceanic valley just like a pea in a pod,
What was then, maybe Mighty Water was God?
Aha, oh no, but along came a pure-hearted Man!
Very thirsty was he and so away he gulps and guzzles the Mighty Water in the glen,
He channels the Mighty Water to quench his dry farmlands, this was indeed a smart farming lad,
What was this then, maybe Man was God?
Aha, oh no, but along went the Man licking a ripe red cherry ****
Into the hallowed building of prayer he does go and gently picks up the Rat bitten name of God,
Down falls the Man upon his knees, he prays, he bows, he silently nods, he wishes his soul was resting in the blissful garden of his beloved God,
What was this then? Maybe...
*God
IS
God!*
©Rangzeb Hussain
Mar 10, 2010
Mar 10, 2010 at 11:08 PM UTC
The clouds are thin
Like a piece of silk
They keep rolling in
In a blue glass as milk
Warm and tender
Of white, yellow, and fire
With the air, they linger
As if they don't get tired
They're our fleecy goodbye
From the light in our eyes
Weightless of all
Though leaves a sullen fall
But truest promise
Lives as it leaves
We're tomorrow's fate
On horizon's brightest gate
Mar 5, 2015
Mar 5, 2015 at 5:16 AM UTC
I have shut the doors to my mind, I shut myself out
For inside my head there exists
a thick darkness that seeks to engulf me.
Pain – Fear – Rage and Love.
Shapeless monsters hiding – waiting to devour me;
Now to the heavens I look, towards the enchanted skies;
glittering and shimmering with cold- but warm enough
to house my sullen soul.
I will look towards them; and find my solace.
Everlasting and steadfast, I am enthralled by you.
Tales from the surface of my within,
The ones I won't tell no man, I let you hear
In the beauty of the night, you wink and glisten.
I look up at the night sky,
our eyes meet in the appreciation of devotion;
of a love between man and kind.
Enshrouded in the warm embrace of fleecy clouds;
she covers my world with her glorious silver smiles;
Lady Moon, Queen of the nighttime cohort.
I look up at the night sky,
and there he remains like a friendly old man frozen in his seat;
pointing the way to that may need it,
his hand remains steady as he guides.
He is a lone star,
shunning communion with comrades and compatriots;
he shines alone, a jewel in solitude.
I look up at the night sky,
they glide past on the wings of the wind
like gracious phantoms.
They weave and churn showing off their flexibility
and volatile dancing skill;
Teaching me how to survive in a world which loves a few.
The grey clouds flip and flop, they boil and bubble.
Rejoicing in the fellowship of flying embroidery;
they promise the gift of life giving rain.
I look up at the night sky,
my eyes cannot see them, but yes they speak to me.
From places out of the reach of civilization;
intuition and heartwarming reassurance flow;
from matter and energy,
at the bounds of space and time,
from regions further than the confines of the known multiverse;
at the feet of God.
The black of the night and the blue of day – the only barriers shielding them from my sight;
They reignite my spirit and set alight the torches of hope
inside the rooms of my soul;
I know not what they are,
but they watch over me and they watch over you.
Look into the skies
and you too will hear their silent voices.
Stare into the splendor of the night
and commune with your inner beauty.
You will be set ablaze.
WordSmith_Wiz
26/07/2018
Mar 9, 2019
Mar 9, 2019 at 5:40 PM UTC
I hate overly yellow bananas
and cilantro in my salad
I hate fleecy sweaters
and pony tails that are too tight
I hate when I can't sleep because I drank too much coffee
and when nobody tells me goodnight
I hate when you promise the sky because you can
and when you don't care
I hate when you yell
and my eyes start to burn
I hate when you're never around
and that you never were
I hate that you try and control me
but know nothing about me
I hate that I have never been a priority
and I know that I never will...
Jan 26, 2013
Jan 26, 2013 at 5:53 PM UTC
FANCY
Matloob Bokhari
I listened the sound of refreshing rain
And heard the dearest song of nightingale.
I saw Baby walking in the gentle rain
Fleecy clouds laying arms round her neck
Silver drops in pure delight kissing her lips
Sweet-smelling breeze blowing through her hair
Rainbow by raindrops studded on her rosy cheeks
I woke up when she called my name.
My soul knelt down to thank my Lord.
Who blessed me fancy – the greatest artist
O When the door of my soul is opened,
Ideas descend as drops of rain from sky
Sitting alone by fire in my study , I hear
Whistling wind and symphony of raindrops
I smell wet soil , perfume of meadow flowers
See Baby appearing as a column of light
And the sky with rainbow in her hand.
COMMENTS OF POETS
Laura Bailey Thank you Matloob Bukhari for the very beautiful poem
Rukiah Annuar awesome poem ... bleeding ink magnificently on the page . Such a wondrous gift ... for love of poetry, love~faith~gratitude~ Black heart (cards) ... my heart sings reading your poetry and touches my soul to the silent symphony of your poetic heart Black heart (cards)
Ch Navakanta Mishra Matloob Bukhari- Beautiful words
Leo Riccio My baby is like this... thanks, blessings.
Poet Love wow I love the way you wrote. Beautiful, well-done xoxo
Kevin M. Hibshman All love!!!!
Mike Eric Soffer very lovely
Gaudreault C Marie hhhhhhhhhhh.. I am speechless with the lines .. and also with the image.. I love them both so much !! .. I am fascinated by your works.. and cannot thank you enough for the pleasure it brings.. .. :D .. never stop this .. :D xoxoxo .. and I am grateful !! .. so very grateful.. THANK YOU .. LOVE ALWAYS, :D Black heart (cards) xoxoxo . Black heart (cards) you are a treausre !! xoxoxo Cmarie ..
Margaret Gudkov ohhh wow.. Fancy is such beautiful write.. my soul danced with your words
Carmel Mawle So beautiful. I especially love the fleecy clouds laying arms around her neck.
Jann Gail Jones your words were so precious . They brought such beautiful images to mind and softness and beauty to my heart that tears welled in my eyes. I was reading and dancing. Such magical words Thank you for having such a beautiful heart to be able to write such beautiful things. I thank God for sending blessed people like you. You poems give me faith in humanity. Blessings to you!
Nov 19, 2014
Nov 19, 2014 at 12:01 PM UTC
When someone asks,
“What did you do today?”
I answer, with a smile,
“Lived,” because what can be more
Fulfilling than watching
Rain drops streak down a
Cheek of a lover pushing against
The wind in a limitless
Dance, or more
Satisfying than slipping into
A fleecy coat and boots and
Splashing down a stream in the
Woods, the damp trees dripping with
Greenery on the one who is kept so
Dry? And hearing a kettle as it
Steams and screeches, ready to
Drink after being poured over tea,
Coupled with butter and honey
Drizzled on toast, as the rain gently
Clangs on my tin windowsill
Reminds me of the time that the
Phone rang, and the woman on the line
Had to say, “We hoped it wouldn't be today,
But your Grandfather recently passed away,”
When it wasn't sky water that streaked my cheek
On a rainy day.
Dec 27, 2011
Dec 27, 2011 at 6:42 PM UTC
Six friends,
All huddled under the cover of night.
They have known each other
for eternities,
Yet each only for a day.
Sharing memories that they shared
From thousands of miles away
Before they even met.
The fleecy down of cloud cover
Is stretched over their heads
A secretive sleepover tent
But the only secrets they tell
Are they have only been keeping
From themselves.
And they begin to fill with something
Even lighter than air.
And they rested their heads in each others' laps -
The only thing
That kept them held down to the ground.
The damp, soft earth underneath them
Cold grass and the chilly morning dew
Forming beneath their fingers
Were the only things
To remind them that this life was real.
This moment was real.
Above them, the sky turned purple
Then orange
Then pale light blue.
And the morning came
Whether they wished it to or not,
Pressing into the next day as it did the last.
Only somehow, this was different.
May 30, 2012
May 30, 2012 at 12:18 PM UTC
Light emanating from distant ***** of burning gas are intimidated from the children’s vision by the unruly, central licks fluffing about their little fire.
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The wind, streaming in from the warm side of the nearby ocean, picks up waves of genuine laughter and stunning, off-key voices.
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A bloodline of salt water curls the group into a circular haven where there is no need for corners to shadow defensive secrets.
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This is a time of absolute purity as the children’s minds drift to Never-never land and their hearts float within the red wine spilling into their mouths.
===============================================================
They are all the happiest that they have ever been - on the seams of their spines, dallying until the currents will overtake them someday to bury their bodies at the bottom of the sea.
===============================================================
Darkness thickly pastes the surrounding beach, longing for the fleecy little fire to cease its bravado so that the children can fall deeply into sleep.
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Jul 22, 2014
Jul 22, 2014 at 5:47 PM UTC
Each day she went to her garden, to look at him pass by
Her eyes unblinking, she watched him, circle in the sky.
Fleecy clouds veiled the sunlight, so she would not go blind
The girl was filled with love for him body, soul, and mind.
Yet he never even noticed her, for his mind was overwrought,
For he was in love with another, and it was her that his eyes sought.
As time passed, her passion for him, never diminished in size,
She longed for him to acknowledge her, and look into her eyes.
So one time she sat for nine days, just watching him from afar,
No food or water did she consume, her love burnt like a star.
On the tenth day the Gods took pity and so upon the hour,
They turned the love struck girl into a beautiful sunflower.
The flower is turned toward the sun from sunrise to sunset,
Still watching her loved one fly, never wanting to forget.
Apr 8, 2015
Apr 8, 2015 at 4:15 AM UTC
I reach to touch but all I find
is fragrant vapor in my hand
That once had been perfume, I think
and now is not but ghostly form
I look to see but everything
is faded moonlight on the breeze
The shadow of a dream forgot
with nothing but specter's life
I try to hear but all is silence
the scream of snails across the sea
muffled by fleecy clouds between
leaves only dim remembered sighs
Dec 21, 2011
Dec 21, 2011 at 11:10 AM UTC
The frost-feathered birches are a heavenly white,
knuckled and rigid as elderly spines,
Holy as naves and as filled with esteem
November announces my season of dreams
Long nights south to the tree and the lake
For happiness sake, and lying with stars
The comforting sounds of a million cars
Rubber on tar, rubber on tar
Flights of romance and my supper outside
A tangle of shadows fiercely flailing at my sides,
and over tables of oak
I am sat near silent others in their scarves and winter coats
They accompany me so, although none by invite
We are strangers breaking bread beneath a milky way of lights
Here where lofty leagues above, the storm begins to croon
Where fleecy clouds in motion seem to overtake the moon
Oct 23, 2020
Oct 23, 2020 at 7:36 AM UTC