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shirring down
rain slides whispering through the grasses
clings to every drying flower head gone to seed
bushes tightly bunched
against the stalking winter wind
buffalo herding round
circling the remains of autumn
summer lost to us all

leaves
racing for cover
freed from tree prisons
off on walkabout
seeking some adventure
bound for bonfires
or compost mountains
or gathering in communion against my garden wall
gossiping in their secret leafy language
secrets of the seasons
mysteries of the Earth
Mother tongue
wet is this silver morning
wet with life
C Patricia Sky Bellefleur
so let me write of joy
and brush away the darkness
webs of clinging black remorse
whispers from regretful past
and fallen lost reminders
dreams gone pale
and lifeless hopes
forgotten promises
and weeping prostrate on the sand
allow the shirring tide
to cleanse away
and leave the shimmering truth
each day i may renew if i have courage
the promise of my life
my sparkling mind
and towering spirit
my silver sharp instrument
in timeless power
given freely to us all
i must remember joy
it is in truth
the finest gift
and flows like fountains
through my deepest being
i am alive
and i am loved
all else is excess
and i am blessed to glimpse it
Sky
Norbert Tasev Feb 23
Tan would have been better -you say -to stop the other in Pőr, Adam's costume, to be sure to manage the personality of the deliberately hidden lyrical self; The more real, honest seed hidden in the walnut. Because the world, which has been stunned in the cobwebs, is already completely excluded.

Inversely staring in the mirror, the face looks like a wolf multiplied by himself, until one sooner or later it only gets caught and voluntarily cuts a distortion, like a teenage eternal child with all the hair; There are two types of disgust - often - necessary because it always matches. In the depths of the inner soul, the covenant of direct, friendly words, the appearances of secret compromises, the miracle of Pisla perhaps only excite only one.

Inexorable silence is tense when the cross-section of two naive-lovable dialogues unfolds at all, and not just the consolation of the hugging arms, the glance of angelic superstitious eyes would be important, but the thought of stripped, crystallization. that we can count on someone.

Often, it is better to have been done instead of unnecessary, tricky words and spoke, and the secret apocryphal shirring that they thought was that only the selected, privileged, perhaps, may have the same average. And while the soul tends to disappear, fade away by the intermediate ventilation gaps, it is time for a real and sincere emotion to be lost if it is not estimated and is not taken care of enough.

— The End —