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B Apr 2023
Where the air is thin and flowers grow a plenty
take me where it hurts to breathe
where the sun embraces me, so gently
and the towns are quiet but friendly.
We shall fashion daisies into wreathes,
watch as the aspen births her leaves
into crimson colors, so many.
Ethan Feb 2011
In this mountaining valley we are one
So let us watch this birthing sun
It starts small but enthusiastic
It grows and consumes.

We feed it daily and admire its growth
How are you today my flower? we ask
I'm fukken great
          is its response

It grows more on some days
And it barely eats on others
Sometimes we don't feed it, our lives too busy
But our sun is always shining.

The beauty of it has caught attention
Our smiles known when we feed it
         those around us smile too
With this writing I prepare a meal,
         our love burns all the brighter.
Near the coniferous twig's
A brilliant black magic mocha
Charming mind murmuring blue's
Yellow daffodils shouting silently
A couple of electronic kisses
As the waves bunching arms...
Mocking moctails...
Bushes  vibrant gaze...
A river falling of lofty thorny mountains...
A draught mind dancing while few withering flower's ...falling asleep...!



Another glance...
Opened the eye's
Coin is flipping
While
gazing a daffodils
at lonely desert!

Again close the eyes...
Mountaining mind and river
Flooding the beauty of emotions
Spilling sweet pills...
Dreaming
Goes
On
And
On
.
.
.
Cyclic chain of violin beats
Imagination kissing crooked reality
Cooking rainbow
And
Rain begins
With
Dusty storms
.
.
.
.


.



...

— The End —