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"glb" poems
The leaves rustle in response and the crickets sing along as the wind assembles its orchestra to compose another song glb©2015
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May 7, 2016
May 7, 2016 at 7:29 AM UTC
What the Wind Blows
I stand in front of the mirror it has seen a lot of me from the start but is sure is a tragedy seeing all precious things but the heart glb©2015
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May 8, 2016
May 8, 2016 at 8:59 PM UTC
What a Mirror Cannot Do
I've never watched the fireworks from anywhere but my homebase although year after year I know I'm always in a different place (and I hope you are, too) glb
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Dec 31, 2016
Dec 31, 2016 at 6:32 AM UTC
Year Changes
You are not a tenant in my mind anymore— You have built a home in my heart glb©2018
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Jan 12, 2018
Jan 12, 2018 at 11:39 PM UTC
Permanent Housing
the definition of legacy I never truly knew until one gathering an elderly woman came up to us and spoke out of the blue she shook my mother's hand real tight and spoke of my grandfather, a former colonel and chaplain, a present friend to my mother she said: "I love you because I love your dad" and to me I knew those words would stick till the very end glb©2016
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Dec 23, 2016
Dec 23, 2016 at 4:00 AM UTC
how legacy lasts
Now we see that water is a mighty portrayal of love for not only should it reflect what is beneath but far more Who is above glb©2015
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May 8, 2016
May 8, 2016 at 10:05 AM UTC
Another Reflection
Lunch at Denny’s With a Side Disorder of Screaming Child and Bellowing Mother Pajama Child, running and screaming: “Bye-bye. Bye-Bye! BYE-BYE! HEY!!! BYE-BYE!!!!” Momma, not looking up from her MePhone: “Don’t run, honey. No. Don’t run! I SAID, ‘DON’T RUN!!!” Pajama Child, standing in her seat and chewing her food over diners’ backs: “Wlb. Glb. Blrt! Uerk! Blye-blye! Momma, not looking up from her MePhone:: “One…!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” Pajama Child: “NO! CAN’T MAKE ME! NO, YOU! NO, NO, NO, NO!!!!!!!!” Momma, not looking up from her MePhone: “Twoooooooooooooooooooooooooo…!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” Pajama Child, throwing food: (SHRIEKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK!!!!!!!!!!!!”) Momma, not looking up from her MePhone: “NO! I MEAN IT THIS TIME! One………!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” Pajama Child, running and screaming around the restaurant: “NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!! Momma, not looking up from her MePhone: “Twooooooooooooooo…!!!! I mean it this time!!!! Twooooooooooooooooooo…!!!!!!” Pajama Child: “NO, YOU! CAN’T MAKE ME! BYE-BYE! BYE-BYE-BYE!” Momma, not looking up from her MePhone: “Do you need a spanking? I mean it this time!” I blame the teachers and Donald Trump. I mean it. No, really. I mean it this time.
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Sep 12, 2019
Sep 12, 2019 at 3:53 PM UTC
With a Side Order of Screaming child
a signal in space no voices exchange the message is seen glb©2020
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Aug 16, 2020
Aug 16, 2020 at 9:28 AM UTC
the modern dialogue